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» 


\ 


V 

w 


\ 


. 


i 


‘ 


MORAL  PHILOSOPHY: 


INCLUDING 

THEORETICAL  AND  PRACTICAL  ETHICS. 


B  T 

JOSEPH  HAVEN,  D.D.,  L.L.D., 

PROFESSOR  IN  CHICAGO  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY ;  LATELY  PROFESSOR  OF 
INTELLECTUAL  AND  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY  IN  AMHERST  COLLEGE J 
AUTHOR  OF  44  MENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.” 


NEW  YORK: 

SHELDON  AND  COMPANY, 

8  Murray  Street. 

1879 


II 


L 

Dr.  Haven's  Valuable  Series  of  School  and 
College  Text-Books. 

- - 

MEXTAI i  PIULOSOPIIY  .  .  .  .  $2  OO 

MORAL.  PHILOSOPHY  .  .  .  .  1  75 

HISTORY  OF  AYCIEYT  AXD  MODERY 
PHILOSOPHY.  (In  press). 

I 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859,  by 
GOULD  AND  LINCOLN, 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


PRESS  OF 

ROCKWELL  ANll  CHURCHILL, 


llOSTON. 


n  d 

H  vu 


PREFACE. 


Tiie  present  volume  is  the  result  of  the  author’s 
studies  while  Professor  of  Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy 
in  Amherst  College,  and  was  originally  prepared  as  a 
course  of  lectures  to  the  senior  class  in  that  Institution. 
It  was  intended  as  a  sequel  to  the  author’s  treatise  on 
Mental  Philosophy.  The  favorable  reception  of  that 
work  by  the  public  has  induced  him  to  give  this  also  to 
the  press,  with  the  hope  that  it  may  be  of  service  to  the 
cause  of  Education,  j 

Few  departments  of  science  have  so  rich  a  literature 
as  Moral  Philosophy.  And  yet,  by  general  concession, 
there  are  few  good  text-books  of  the  science.  Of  the 
treatises  now  most  generally  in  use  in  our  schools  and 
colleges,  some  appear  deficient  in  thorough  scientific 
discussion  of  the  principles  and  true  theory  of  morals ; 
others,  again,  in  practical  detail.  In  some  of  them, 
under  the  title  of  Moral  Philosophy,  topics  are  discussed 
which  more  properly  pertain  to  Psychology,  —  as,  for 
example,  the  phenomenon  of  Conscience,  and  the  prob¬ 
lems  of  the  Will,  —  while  the  history  of  ethical  opinion 

401367 


VlII 


PREFACE. 


—  one  of  the  widest  and  richest  fields  of  investigation 
- —  has  almost  universally  been  overlooked. 

It  has  been  the  aim  of  the  author  to  give,  as  far  as 
possible,  a  science  of  morals,  and  not  merely  a  treatise 
on  moral  subjects.  With  a  view  to  this,  the  principles 
which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  the  science  are  first  dis¬ 
cussed,  as  concisely  as  may  be,  in  the  opening  division 
of  the  work ;  and  in  the  subsequent  division  these 
principles  are  considered  in  their  application  to  the 
practical  duties  and  relations  of  life. 

Of  the  several  classes  of  duties,  that  class  wdiich  per¬ 
tains  to  the  state  —  or  Political  Ethics  —  has  received 
in  these  pages  a  fuller  discussion  than  is  usually  given 
in  works  of  this  kind ;  yet  not  fuller,  perhaps,  than  its 
relative  importance  demands.  It  has  seemed  to  the 

i 

author  that  the  youth  of  a  free  country  should  be  care¬ 
fully  instructed  in  the  first  principles  of  civil  govern¬ 
ment,  and  in  the  rights  and  obligations  of  the  citizen. 
It  is  the  proper  province  of  Moral  Philosophy,  which 
treats  of  the  various  duties  of  life,  to  do  this.  Yet, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  no  branch  of  moral  science 
has  probably  received  less  attention,  in  this  country, 
than  Political  Ethics.  J.  H. 


Chicago,  August  1859 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION. 

Pag# 

NATURE  AND  PROVINCE  OF  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY,  .  .  15 

DIVISION-FIRST. 

THEORETICAL  ETHICS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  NATURE  OF  RIGHT, . 21 

Section  I.  —  Right  in  itself  considered,  ....  21 

Section  II.  —  Right  as  distinguished  from  other  ideas 

of  similar  import, . 23 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  GROUND  OF  RIGHT,  . . 27 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT . 50 


X 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Page 

THE  PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT, . 59 

Section  I.  —  What  is  a  Moral  Action  ?  ....  59 

Section  II. —In  what  consists  the  Morality  of  any  given 

Act  ? . 63 


CHAPTER  V. 

FACULTIES  OF  MIND  COGNIZANT  OF  EIGHT,  ...  67 

CHAPTER  VI. 

HISTORIC  SKETCH  OF  OFINIONS  RESPECTING  THE  NATURE 
AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT,  . 71 


DIVISION  SECOND. 

PRACTICAL  ETHICS. 

PRELIMINARY  ANALYSIS  AND  CLASSIFICATION,  .  .  89 

PART  I. 

DUTIES  TO  SELF. 

CHAPTER  I. 

SELF-SUPPORT, . 92 

CHAPTER  II. 

SELF-DEFENCE, . 95 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


CHAPTER  III. 

Page 

SELF-CONTROL,  .  . . 100 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SELF-CULTURE, .  101 

>  ( 


PART  II. 

DUTIES  TO  SOCIETY. 

CHAPTER  I. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE, . 107 

CHAPTER  II. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY, . 110 

Section  I.  —  Slavery  Defined, . 118 

Section  II.  —  Slavery,  as  thus  defined,  a  Moral  Wrong,  121 
Section  III.  —  Effect  of  Slavery  on  the  National  Morals, 

and  the  National  Wealth,  .  .  .  120 

Section  IY.  —  Arguments  in  Favor  of  Slavery,  .  .  130 

*  ■*  *  *  i  .  ,  , 

CHAPTER  III. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY, . 142 

Section  I.  —  Foundation  of  the  Right  of  Property,  .  142 

Section  II.  —  Advantages  of  the  Institution  of  Property,  148 
Section  III.  —  Modes  in  which  Property  may  be  Acquired,  1-31 
Section  IY.  —  Different  kinds  of  Property,  .  .  .  157 

Section  Y.  — Crimes  against  Prqperty^  ....  100 


XII 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Page 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION,  ....  167 

Section  I.  —  Slander  Defined,  .  ...  .  .  ,  169 

Section  II.  —  What  the  Law  of  Reputation  Forbids,  .  170 

Section  III.  —  Reasons  for  observing  the  Law  of 

Reputation, . 174 

CHAPTER  V. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY, . 176 

Section  I.  —  Truthfulness  in  Common  Discourse,  .  .  177 

Section  II.  —  Veracity  as  regards  Promises,  .  .  .  184 

Section  III.  —  Veracity  in  respect  to  Oaths,  ...  190 

PART  III. 

DUTIES  TO  THE  FAMILY. 

/ 

CHAPTER  I. 

% 

DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION,  ....  198 

CHAPTER  II. 

DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION,  ....  206 


Section  I.  —  Duties  of  Parents, 
Section  It. —  Duties  of  Children,  . 


206 

214 


CONTENTS. 


XHI 


PART  IY. 

DUTIES  TO  THE  STATE. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Page 

NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION  OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT,  221 

Section  I.  —  Origin  and  Object  of  Civil  Government,  223 
Section  II.  —  Foundation  of  Civil  Government,  .  .  228 

Section  III.  —  Historic  Sketch — Different  Opinions  as 

to  the  Nature  of  Civil  Government,  .  239 

CHAPTER  II. 

VARIOUS  FORMS  OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT,  ...  243 

Section  I.  —  Analysis  of  the  several  Functions  and 

Forms  of  Government, . 244 

Section  II.  — Historical  Sketch  of  Forms  of  Government,  249 


CHAPTER  III. 

DUTIES  OF  THE  SUBJECT  TO  THE  STATE,  ...  271 

CHAPTER  IY. 

DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE  TO  ITS  SUBJECTS,  ...  283 

CHAPTER  V. 

DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE, . 308 

Section  I.  —  General  Relations  and  Duties  of  States  to 

each  other, . 308 

Section  II.  —  Ethical  Relations  of  Republican  States  to 


EACH  OTHER, 


2 


322 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


PART  Y. 

DUTIES  TO  GOD. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Page 

OF  THE  FEELINGS  TOWARDS  GOD, . 326 

CHAPTER  II.  ::fi; 

OF  OBEDIENCE . 332 

I 

CHAPTER  III. 


OF  WORSHIP,  . 337 

Section  I.  —  Of  Prayer, . 338 

Section  II.  —  Of  the  Sabbath, . 346 


I. —  Presumption  in  favor  of  a  Sabbath. 

II.  —  Institution  and  Authority  of  the  Sabbath. 


CONFLICT  OF  DUTIES, 


359 


AUTHORITIES, 


363 


MORAL  PIIILOSOPIIY. 


INTRODUCTION. 


NATURE  AND  PROVINCE  OF  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


Moral  Philosophy ,  what . —  Moral  Philosophy  is  the  sci¬ 
ence  which  treats  of  morals  —  the  science  of  right.  Nat¬ 
ural  Philosophy  teaches  us  the  laws  of  external  nature; 
Intellectual  Philosophy,  the  laws  of  the  human  mind; 
Moral  Philosophy  has  to  do  with  the  laws  of  human  con¬ 
duct  and  duty.  As  thus  defined,  it  is  equivalent  to  Ethics. 
It  may  be  termed,  also,  the  science  of  duties,  inasmuch  as 
right  and  duty  are,  as  regards  moral  action,  one  and  the 
same. 

Term  used  in  a  wider  sense .  —  By  the  earlier  English 
writers  the  term  Moral  Philosophy  was  used  in  a  much 
more  extended  sense,  to  denote  in  general  the  science  of 
mind,  in  distinction  from  physical  science  —  whatever 
treats  of  intellectual  in  distinction  from  material  things. 
As  thus  employed,  it  includes  psychology  as  well  as  other 
sciences;  and  this  use  is  still,  to  some  extent,  prevalent. 


16 


NATURE  AND  PROVINCE 


Thus  many  of  the  works  of  English  and  Scotch  philoso¬ 
phers  on  psychology  are  termed  Moral  Philosophy.  By 
French  writers,  also,  the  7norale  is  frequently  placed  in 
contrast  with  the  physique. 

Indeed,  the  dividing  line  between  mental  and  moral  sci- 
ence  has  not,  as  yet,  been  very  closely  drawn,  for  the  most 
part,  by  those  who  have  written  upon  either.  Many  of 
our  own  most  popular  works  on  Moral  Philosophy  treat  of 
topics  which  properly  pertain  to  psychology,  as,  e.  g .,  the 
nature  of  Conscience,  the  Sensibilities,  the  Will,  and  other 

t 

topics  of  like  nature.  These  are  faculties  of  the  mind, 
and,  as  such,  it  pertains  to  psychology  to  explain  and  un¬ 
fold  them.  Moral  Philosophy,  so  far  as  it  has  occasion  to 
make  use  of  these  phenomena,  must  go  to  psychology  for 
the  facts  and  the  explanations,  just  as  it  must  go  to 
astronomy  for  the  facts  and  laws  of  planetary  motion ;  or 
to  logic  for  the  laws  of  thought  and  forms  of  reasoning. 
Its  proper  office  is  to  teach,  not  logic,  nor  astronomy,  nor 
psychology,  but  the  science  of  right  —  of  duty.  It  has  to 
do  neither  with  the  affections,  the  emotions,  nor  the  will, 
except  so  far  as  these  are  involved  in  the  investigation  and 
statement  of  duty. 

Intimate  connection  of  Mental  with  Moral  Philosophy. 

> — The  connection  between  the  two  sciences  is  indeed  very 
intimate ;  and  for  this  reason  they  should  be  all  the  more 
carefully  distinguished.  The  very  idea  of  right  is  to  be 
sought  among  the  primitive  conceptions  of  the  mind.  To 
perceive  and  judge  of  the  right,  is  one  of  the  most  impor¬ 
tant  offices  of  the  reflective  power  of  the  mind.  The 


OF  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 


17 


emotions,  affections,  desires,  furnish  a  powerful  class  of 
motives  to  human  action,  whether  right  or  wrong.  The 
will,  or  the  power  of  voluntary  mental  action,  constitutes 
the  basis  of  human  accountability,  and  lies,  therefore,  at  the 
foundation  of  ethics.  Hence,  not  improperly,  the  faculties 
now  designated  have  been  termed,  by  some  philosophers, 
the  active  and  moral  powers  of  man.  Dugald  Stewart 
thus  designates  them. 

In  regard  to  the  faculties  now  under  consideration,  a 
correct  psychology  is  absolutely  essential  to  a  correct  sci¬ 
ence  of  moral  duty. 

In  another  respect,  also,  is  the  connection  of  the  two 
sciences  intimate.  Duty  pertains,  first  and  chiefly,  not  to 
the  external  conduct,  but  to  the  responsible,  intelligent 
mind,  whose  thoughts,  feeling,  and  volitions  find  their 
expression  in  that  outward  conduct,  and  determine  its 
moral  character.  To  teach  me  what  are  my  duties,  is  to 
teach  me  what  thoughts  and  affections  I  ought  to  cherish ; 
what  purposes  and  volitions  I  ought  to  form  and  put 
forth;  in  a  word,  what  ought  to  be  my  entire  mental 
activity,  as  exerted  in  the  various  relations  of  life.  Men¬ 
tal  science  contents  itself  with  ascertaining  what  are  the 
varied  phenomena  of  mental  action ;  moral  science,  while 
relating  chiefly  to  the  same  department  of  observation, — 
t.  6.,  the  human  mind,  —  inquires  not  so  much  what  are  the 
laws  and  operations  of  its  various  faculties,  as  what  they 
ought  to  be. 

General  divisions.  —  The  science  of  morals  properly 
divides  itself  into  two  parts  —  the  theoretical  and  the 

2* 


18  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY. 

practical.  Before  proceeding  to  discuss  the  various  du¬ 
ties  which  pertain  to  the  well-ordered  conduct  of  life,  it  is 
necessary  to  inquire  first  into  those  general  principles  on 
which,  as  a  basis,  morality  rests,  —  as,  e.  g.,  the  nature  of 
right,  the  ground  of  right,  the  rule  of  right,  the  province 
of  right,  —  and  in  what  consists  the  moral  quality  of  actions. 
This  inquiry  into,  and  discussion  of,  the  general  principles 
which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  morals,  may  be  termed  the 
theoretical  part  of  the  science.  The  way  will  thus  be  pre¬ 
pared  to  take  up  and  discuss,  in  their  order,  the  several 
duties  that  devolve  on  man  in  the  various  relations  of  life ; 
and  this  may  be  termed  the  practical  part  of  the  science. 


DIVISION  FIRST. 


THEORETICAL  ETHICS. 


/  ;  ; 


. 


THEORETICAL  ETHICS, 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  NATURE  OF  RIGHT. 

§  1.  —  Right  in  Itself  Considered. 

Essential  Attributes .  —  The  term  right  expresses  a 
simple  and  ultimate  idea ;  it  is,  therefore,  incapable  of  an¬ 
alysis  and  definition ;  nor  does  it,  like  many  other  ideas, 
stand  in  need  of  definition  in  order  to  be  understood.  It 
expresses  an  eternal  and  immutable  distinction,  inherent  in 
the  nature  of  things,  not  the  creation  of  arbitrary  power, 
whether  of  man  or  God.  Wherever  there  is  voluntary 
action  of  any  intelligent  rational  being,  there  is  always, 

and  always  must  be,  a  right  and  a  wrong ;  and  all  moral 

4  <  + 

action  is,  of  necessity,  either  the  one  or  the  other.  The 
distinction  is  one  universally  recognized.  The  idea  of  right 
lies  among  the  simplest  furniture  and  first  principles  of  the 
human  mind.  It  manifests  itself  with  the  dawn  of  reason 
and  intelligence.  It  is  not  an  idea  of  the  schools,  a  distinc- 

t  * 

tion  known  only  or  chiefly  to  metaphysicians ;  but  is  the 
property  alike  of  the  learned  and  the  simple,  of  the  child 
and  the  philosopher.  Opinions  may  vary  widely  as  to 


22 


THE  NATURE  OF  RIGHT. 


what  is,  and  what  is  not,  right  action ;  what  one  system 
or  one  age  pronounces  to  be  right,  another  system  or 
another  age  may  decide  to  be  wrong ;  but,  as  to  the  essen¬ 
tial  difference  between  the  right  and  the  wrong,  as  ideas,  or 
principles  of  action,  no  age  or  system  was  ever  at  a  loss  — 
no  mind,  however  feeble,  was  ever  confused. 

TTiis  Idea,  xchence  derived.  —  It  is  a  question  of  some 
importance  how  we  come  by  the  idea  of  right.  Some  have 
attributed  it  to  fashion  and  education,  as  did  Locke  and 
his  followers ;  others  to  the  laws,  human  or  divine,  which 
forbid  or  sanction  certain  actions ;  others  regard  it  as  the 
product  of  a  special  sense,  whose  office  it  is  to  take  cogni¬ 
zance  of  moral  distinctions,  as  the  eye  perceives  color,  and 
the  ear  sound.  Others  again  regard  the  idea  of  right  as 
a  simple  and  ultimate  one,  and  as  such  underived,  a  pri¬ 
mary  original  conception  of  the  human  mind,  not  innate, 
but  connate,  an  elementary  dictum  of  reason. 

The  universality  of  the  idea,  —  its  early  manifestation 
in  childhood,  prior  to  education,  and  the  influence  of  ex¬ 
ample, —  as  well  as  the  clearness  and  strength  with  which 
it  manifests  itself,  in  all  conditions  of  society,  and  under  all 
the  varying  circumstances  of  life, — these  things  go  to  show 
that  the  idea  of  right  is  founded  in  the  constitution  of  the 
mind,  and  not  derived  from  any  source  external  and  ad¬ 
ventitious.  Nor  can  those  who  take  the  opposite  view 
give  any  satisfactory  account  of  the  origin  of  this  idea; 
since,  to  attribute  it  to  education,  leaves  the  question  still 
open,  where  did  the  first  man,  the  first  educator,  derive  his 
idea  of  it ;  while  to  ascribe  it  to  law,  human  or  divine,  is 

•  -  V 

still  wider  of  the  mark,  inasmuch  as  law  always  pre¬ 
supposes  the  right,  as  the  foundation  on  which  it  rests.  To 
attribute,  then,  the  origin  or  the  idea  of  right  to  law,  is  to 
place  the  foundation  upon  the  building,  instead  of  the 
building  upon  the  foundation.  And  as  to  the  theory  of  a 


TIIE  NATURE  OF  RIGHT. 


23 


special  sense,  whose  office  it  is  to  take  cognizance  of  the 
right,  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  there  is  no  evidence  of  any 
such  special  faculty  of  the  mind,  nor  is  any  such  needed. 

For  the  further  investigation  of  this  topic,  the  reader  is 
referred  to  the  author’s  treatise  on  Mental  Philosophy,  in 
which  the  question,  and  its  several  theories,  are  more  fully 
discussed. 


§2.  —  Right,  as  distinguished  from  other  Ideas  of  similar 

import. 

Might  and  Duty.  —  Right  and  duty  are  not  precisely 
synonymous  terms,  yet  are  nearly  equivalent.  We  are 
always  under  obligation  to  do  that  which  is  right  —  it  is 
our  duty.  The  right  m  morals  once  ascertained,  the  doing 
of  it  is,  under  all  circumstances,  a  duty.  Right  is  the 
foundation  of  obligatfon,  and  coextensive  with  it.  It  is  the 
rightness  of  the  thing  that  creates  its  binding  force,  and 
makes  it  obligatory  upon  us.  There  can  be  no  moral  obli¬ 
gation  to  do  what  is  not  in  itself  a  right  thing  to  be  done. 

Still,  right  and  duty,  though  coextensive,  are  not  of 
precisely  the  same  import.  Right  is  the  abstract,  in  itself 
considered.  Duty  is  right,  considered  in  relation  to  us  as 
personal  agents  —  as  doers;  obligation  is  the  binding  power 
of  the  right  over  us,  which  makes  this  or  that  a  duty. 

Another  View .  —  Some  writers  make  a  further  distinction 
between  obligation  and  duty  than  that  which  I  have  now 
indicated  —  making  obligation  more  comprehensive  than 
duty.  Thus  a  man  may  be  obliged,  by  force  of  circum¬ 
stances,  or  by  the  laws  of  the  land,  to  do  what  is  not  right. 
Such  is  the  view  taken  by  Whewell,  in  his  Elements  of 
Morality.  That  which  is  here  called  obligation,  however, 
is  not  really  such,  but  rather  compulsion,  or  necessity.  Xo 
combination  of  circumstances,  and  no  power  of  law,  can 


24 


THE  NATURE  OF  RIGHT. 


create  moral  obligation.  In  morals,  that,  and  that  only, 
conveys  obligation  which  bears  the  high  seal  and  impress 
of  right.  Whatever  goes  beyond  this,  or  violates  this, — 
whatever  power  and  pressure  of  circumstances  it  may  draw 
around  it,  whatever  sanction  and  authority  of  law,  —  can 
never  bind  the  conscience,  or  impose  on  the  spiritual  nature 
of  man  the  restraints  of  a  moral  obligation.  Law  may  come 
in,  with  its  sanctions  and  penalties,  to  secure  the  perform¬ 
ance  of  the  right ;  it  may  cast  the  heavy  sword  of  power 
into  the  scale  that  hangs  in  doubtful  balance ;  or  it  may 
require  and  enforce  the  wrong ;  but  in  neither  case  can  it 
create  a  moral  obligation  which  did  not  previously  exist. 
Had  there  been  no  law,  it  would  still  have  been  my  duty 
to  do  the  right.  It  is  still  my  duty,  even  though  the  law 
forbid.  Obligation  and  duty  are  coextensive. 

Right  and  Rights.  —  The  term  right  varies  in  signi¬ 
ficance,  according  to  its  use,  as  an  adjective,  or  as  a 
noun  ;  or,  more  properly,  according  to  its  use  in  the  singu¬ 
lar,  or  in  the  plural.  Right  is  the  principle  that  should 
regulate  my  conduct  towards  others;  my  rights  are  what  I 
may  justly  expect  and  require  from  others,  in  their  inter¬ 
course  with  me  —  what  they  ought  to  do  as  respects  me. 
That  which  is  my  right,  is  another’s  duty;  and  that  which 
is  my  duty,  is  another’s  right.  Every  right,  then,  has  its 
corresponding  duty.  It  is  my  duty,  for  example,  to  obey 
God  ;  and  that  obedience  he  has  a  right  to  require.  It  is 
my  duty  to  obey  the  state  in  all  its  just  and  proper  require¬ 
ments  —  in  all  things  not  inconsistent  with  higher  obliga¬ 
tions  ;  and  this  obedience  the  state  has  the  right  to  demand 
of  me.  In  like  manner,  all  my  rights  look  to  the  corre¬ 
sponding  duties  of  others ;  and  all  my  duties,  to  the  rights 
of  others. 

There  would  be  no  rights ,  were  there  not  in  the  first 


THE  NATURE  OF  RIGHT. 


25 


place  such  a  thing  as  right .  From  this,  obligation  results, 
duty  results,  and  so  rights  exist. 

View  of  Whewell  and  others. — If,  with  Whewell  and 
others,  we  make  rights  to  depend  for  their  existence  on 
the  laws,  it  follows  that  there  are  no  rights  except  those 
which  society  recognizes  and  creates  through  the  medium 
of  law ;  and  were  there,  for  any  reason,  no  longer  any  law, 
no  man  would  any  longer  have  any  rights ; — which  is  by  no 
means  the  case.  Law  may  define  and  prescribe  my  rights ; 
it  may  enforce  them,  see  that  they  are  respected  and  ob¬ 
served  ;  but  it  does  not,  and  cannot,  create  them.  They 
are  founded  in  the  principles  of  natural  justice,  and  of  uni¬ 
versal  and  immutable  right.  W ere  there  no  laws  —  were 
the  institutions  of  society  swept  away — there  would  still  be 
rights,  so  long  as  there  were  intelligent  and  rational  beings 
in  existence  sustaining  certain  relations  to  each  other. 
Suppose,  for  example,  two  persons  cast  ashore  upon  a  des¬ 
ert  island,  where,  beside  themselves,  is  no  human  being  — 
where,  of  course,  is  no  state  and  no  law.  Each  of  these 
persons  has  still,  by  the  law  of  nature,  certain  rights,  inal¬ 
ienable  from  him ;  as,  e.  g .,  the  right  to  his  own  person,  his 
own  labor,  his  own  property ;  and  were  the  other  to  wrest 
these  from  him,  he  would  be  guilty  of  a  manifest  wrong  — 
of  palpable  injustice. 

Those  who  take  this  view,  moreover,  go  upon  the  suppo¬ 
sition  that  the  laws  are  based  upon  right  and  justice  — 
as  unquestionably  they  should  be,  but  unfortunately  are 
not  always.  There  may  be,  in  the  course  of  human  af¬ 
fairs,  iniquitous,  unjust  laws;  such  things  have  been,  and 
will  be  again.  Such  laws,  according  to  the  view  in  ques¬ 
tion,  however,  create  rights  and  impose  duties.  In  such  a 
case  I  have,  according  to  this  theory,  the  right  to  demand 
of  others  what  it  is  not  right  for  me  to  demand  of  them ; 

3 


26 


THE  NATURE  OF  RIGHT. 


while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  my  duty  to  do  what  it  is  not 
right  for  me  to  do. 

If  it  be  replied,  that  in  this  case  the  rights  supposed  are 
merely  legal  rights,  and  not  moral  ones,  I  answer,  that,  ac¬ 
cording  to  the  theory,  all  rights  are  legal  ones,  and  must 
be  first  legal  before  they  can  be  moral.  It  is  the  law  that 
creates  rights,  moral  or  other.  The  morality  presuj^poses 
and  depends  upon  the  legality,  as  the  quality  presupposes 
the  substance.  To  distinguish  in  this  manner  between  a 
right  which  is  merely  legal,  and  one  which,  in  addition  to 
that,  is  also  moral,  is  to  step  back  from  the  theory  that  it  is 
law  which  creates  rights. 

The  truth  is,  neither  right  nor  rights  are  dependent  on 
law  for  their  existence.  There  are  rights  which  are  not 
defined  by  law  —  which,  possibly,  are  forbidden  by  law. 
All  rights  exist  before  they  are  thus  defined.  Both  my 
duties  and  my  rights  depend  for  their  existence  on  right ; 
and  this  again  depends,  not  on  society,  nor  law,  but  is 
founded  in  the  eternal  and  immutable  nature  of  things. 

The  rights,  so  called,  which  are  established  by  law,  may 
or  may  not  coincide  with  moral  rights.  However  this  may 
be,  Moral  Philosophy  has  to  do,  not  at  all  with  legal  rights, 
as  such,  but  only  with  moral.  With  jurisprudence,  as  dis¬ 
tinct  from  morals,  it  has  no  more  to  do  than  with  constitu¬ 
tional  law,  or  the  science  of  government. 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


27 


CHAPTER  II. 

GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 

Principle  of  Obligation .  — Duty  implies  obligation.  To 
say  that  it  is  my  duty  to  do  a  given  thing,  is  to  say  that  I 
ought  to  do  it.  Were  there  no  such  thing  as  obligation, 
there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  duty.  It  is  evident  then, 
at  a  glance,  that  the  principle  of  obligation  is  an  essential 

element  in  morals :  it  meets  us  at  the  threshold,  it  lies  at 

±  • 

the  foundation  of  the  science  on  which  we  are  entering. 

Such  is  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  that  no 
sooner  do  we  perceive  a  given  course  to  be  right,  than  we 
recognize  also  a  certain  obligation  resting  on  us  to  pursue 
that  course.  It  is  a  conviction  of  the  mind  inseparable 
from  the  perception  of  the  right.  Given  the  one,  and  we 
cannot  escape  the  other. 

Ground  of  Moral  Obligation .  —  The  question  arises  here, 
What  is  the  ground  of  this  ought  ?  —  what  constitutes  it  ? 
What  is  that,  in  any  given  action,  that  imposes  on  me  the 
obligation  to  do  the  same  ?  I  ought  to  do  this  and  that : 
Why  ought? 

Whatever  answer  we  may  give  to  this  question,  we  must 
come  back  ultimately  to  the  simple  position  —  we  ought,  be¬ 
cause  it  is  right .  The  rightness  constitutes  the  obligation. 
The  question,  then,  virtually  resolves  itself  into  this  — 
What  constitutes  right? 

This  is  a  question  of  no  little  moment.  It  has  received, 
at  different  times,  and  by  different  authors,  widely  differ- 


28 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


ent  answers,  and  these  various  answers  constitute  so  many 
different  theories  of  morals.  They  lead  us  over  an  inter¬ 
esting  and  most  important  field  of  inquiry,  involving  one 
of  the  deepest  problems  in  the  whole  range  of  philosophi¬ 
cal  thought. 

In  the  preceding  chapter,  I  had  occasion  to  refer  to  the 
source  of  our  idea  of  right,  and  also  to  the  question,  What 
constitutes  our  rights?  The  question  now  before  us  is 
quite  distinct  from  each  of  these.  Wre  are  now  to  inquire, 
not  whence  comes  the  idea  of  right,  but  what  is  right 
itself?  —  not  what  makes  rights ,  but  what  makes  right? 

Principal  Theories .  —  The  principal  theories  of  morals,  or 
grounds  of  obligation,  proposed  by  different  writers,  may 
be  reduced,  perhaps,  to  these  four:  1.  Utility;  2.  Law; 
3.  The  nature  and  character  of  God;  4.  The  eternal  and 
immutable  nature  of  tilings.  Each  of  these  has  been 
regarded  as  the  true  ground  on  which  to  place  the  dis¬ 
tinction  of  right  and  wrong,  and  the  consequent  moral 
obligation.  The  two  former  of  these,  again,  have  each  a 
twofold  aspect:  Utility,  as  the  ground  of  right,  may  de¬ 
note  either  the  happiness ,  the  pleasure  accruing  from  a 
given  course  (which  is  itself  a  species  of  utility),  or  the 
more  direct  advantage  resulting  from  it.  Or,  if  we  place 
the  matter  on  the  ground  of  legal  enactment,  the  law 
which  makes  the  right  and  the  wrong,  may  be  marts  law, 
or  it  may  be  God’s. 

We  have,  then,  these  divergent  paths  opening  before  us, 
each  proposing  to  conduct  to  the  true  solution  of  our  prob¬ 
lem,  each  trodden  by  many  a  mighty  man  in  the  domain 
of  thought :  the  utilitarian  theory,  with  its  twofold  aspect, 
the  pleasure  and  the  advantage  of  the  thing;  the  legal 
theory,  twofold  also,  as  of  human  or  Divine  authority ;  the 
theory  which  makes  the  Divine  character  the  foundation 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


29 


of  right ;  and,  finally,  that  which  bases  it  on  the  immuta¬ 
ble  and  eternal  nature  of  things . 

Let  us,  then,  examine  these  several  theories  in  their 
order : 

I.  The  Utilitarian .  —  Utility  as  denoting  Pleasure .  Un¬ 
derstanding  by  this  term,  in  the  first  place,  pleasure ,  rather 
than  advantage,  the  doctrine  is  this:  —  the  reason  why  we 
pronounce  one  thing  right,  rather  than  another,  is,  that  we 
find  the  one  act  to  be  attended,  uniformly,  with  pleasure  to 
the  doer;  the  other,  with  pain.  One  contributes  to  his 
happiness,  the  other  detracts  from  it.  Now,  the  pursuit 
of  happiness,  it  is  contended,  is  the  grand  motive  and 
spring  of  all  human  action  ;  and  if  it  be  once  established 
that  the  actions  which  we  call  right  are  such,  invariably, 
as  to  promote  our  happiness,  no  other  reason  need  be 
assigned  why  we  thus  regard  them.  And  this,  it  is  con¬ 
tended,  is  the  case.  If  we  select  any  instance  of  what  we 
call  right  action,  we  find  it  to  be  an  action  which  is  accom¬ 
panied  with  pleasurable  emotion.  And  this  is  the  ground 
of  our  approval,  the  reason  why  we  pronounce  the  action 
right. 

Now,  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  to  do  right  brings  with 
it  a  present  satisfaction  and  true  happiness.  Such  is  the 
constitution  of  our  nature.  The  question  is,  whether  this 
tendency  to  produce  happiness  is  what  makes  a  given  act 
right.  Is  the  thing  right  because  it  produces  happiness? 
or  does  it  promote  our  happiness  because  it  is  right? 
Which  is  the  true  statement?  When  I  pronounce  some 
past  act  of  my  life  to  be  right,  and  approve  it  as  virtuous, 
is  it  because  I  remember  that  it  gave  me  great  pleasure  ?  — 
and  when  I  cherish  the  feeling  of  self-reproach  and  re¬ 
morse,  in  view  of  past  conduct,  is  it  on  the  ground  that 
the  given  action  was  accompanied  with  unpleasant  and 
painful  sensations  ? 


3* 


30 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


The  Theory  not  satisfactory.  —  The  simple  statement  of 
the  question  would  seem  sufficient.  We  feel  instinctively 
that  our  decision  and  approval*  rest  on  far  other  and  higher 
grounds.  Virtue  and  happiness  are  by  no  means  identi¬ 
cal.  We  have  different  terms  for  them,  and  mean  different 
things  by  them.  The  one  cannot  be  resolved  into  the 
other.  If  it  be  true  that  all  right  things  are  pleasant,  it 
does  not  follow  that  all  pleasant  things  are  right,  much 
less  that  their  pleasantness  makes  them  right.  Many  are 
the  propensities  of  a  corrupt  nature,  the  indulgence  of 
which  is  attended  with  present  gratification,  which  still  are 
evil  and  only  evil;  and  in  their  pleasantness  consists  the 
very  strength  of  the  temptation  they  present.  The  man 
who  yields  to  the  force  of  such  temptations,  however,  by 
no  means  approves  the  course  that  he  pursues.  He  goes 
to  the  commission  of  the  wrong,  not  with  a  conviction 
that  he  is  doing  right,  but  under  a  protest  from  his  con¬ 
science,  and  with  a  feeling  of  self-reproach  and  self-con¬ 
demnation.  This  ought  not  to  be,  according  to  the  theory 
now  under  consideration.  He  ought  rather  to  approve 
his  conduct,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  seeKing  therein 
his  own  happiness ;  and  his  self-approval  ought  to  rise  and 
increase  in  proportion  to  the  pleasure  he  receives. 

As  denoting  Happiness  of  the  Community.  —  Nor  is 
the  case  materially  altered  by  substituting  the  happiness 
of  others,  in  place  of  personal  happiness,  as  the  ground  of 
right.  No  doubt  right  action  contributes  to  the  happiness 
of  the  community,  and  swells  the  sum  total  of  the  world’s 
enjoyment ;  but  is  it  this  that  constitutes  the  rightness  of 
the  act?  Is  the  noble  consciousness  of  doing  right,  with 
all  its  power  to  sustain  the  spirit  of  a  man  under  the  pres¬ 
sure  of  the  heaviest  calamities  and  the  gloom  of  the  dark¬ 
est  hour,  merely  this  —  the  conviction  that  somehow,  in 
consequence  of  what  he  has  done,  men  will,  on  the  whole, 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


31 


enjoy  themselves  better?  Independent,  and  irrespective, 
of  all  such  considerations,  is  there  not  a  far  nobler  satisfac¬ 
tion  in  having  done  that  which  was  right,  in  itself  consid¬ 
ered,  and  for  its  own  sake  ? 

The  view  now  considered  was  the  distinctive  tenet  of 
the  ancient  Epicurean  philosophy ;  and  has  been  held,  in 
later  times,  by  Hume  and  Shaftesbury  in  England,  and  by 
their  followers  generally. 

As  denoting  Advantage .  —  Considering,  now,  utility  as 
denoting  advantage  or  expediency ,  we  come  upon  some¬ 
what  different  ground,  —  capable,  however,  of  attack  and 
defence  by  essentially  the  same  arguments.  In  fact,  the 
former  view  may  be  regarded  as  a  modification  of  the  latter; 
the  one  specific,  the  other  generic,  in  its  form; — pleasure 
being  itself  a  species  of  advantage,  at  least  in  the  opinion 
of  those  who  make  it  the  rule  of  right.  Hence,  very  gen¬ 
erally,  the  advocates  of  the  former  view  are  advocates  also 
of  the  latter.  Still  the  latter  is,  of  the  two,  the  broader 
and  higher  ground. 

Self-love,  according  to  this  view,  is  the  grand  motive  of 
human  action.  Men  do  what  they  think  for  their  advan¬ 
tage.  Now,  it  is  found  by  experience  that  a  certain  course 
of  conduct  is  for  the  advantage,  and  the  opposite  for  the 
disadvantage,  of  the  doer.  Hence  they  come  to  regard 
the  one  course  as  right,  and  to  be  pursued,  —  the  other 
as  wrong,  and  to  be  avoided.  In  a  word,  it  is  the  utility 
or  expediency  of  the  thing  that  constitutes  the  ground  and 
reason  of  its  rightness.  Such  is  the  doctrine  of  Bentham 
and  his  followers. 

And  here  it  is  admitted  on  all  sides  that  virtuous  action 
does  contribute  to  the  advantage,  in  many  ways,  of  the 
doer.  The  question  is,  whether  this  is  what  makes  it  vir¬ 
tuous —  whether  this  constitutes  its  rightness.  Is  it  right 
because  expedient,  or  expedient  because  right  ? 


32 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


Consequences  of  this  Theory .  —  Let  us  see  what  follows 
from  this  theory.  (1)  If  expediency  is  the  ground  of  right, 
then  interest  and  duty  are  identical  in  idea — synonymes  for 
the  same  thought.  To  jDrove  a  given  action  right,  all  that 
is  necessary  is  to  show  that  it  is  advantageous  to  the  doer. 
The  same  act  performed  from  the  same  motives,  with  the 
same  spirit  and  intentions,  is  right  to  one  man,  and  wrong 
to  another ;  nay,  is  right  to  one  and  the  same  man,  at  one 
time,  and  wrong  at  another,  according  as  it  turns  out  for 
his  advantage  or  not.  We  can  never  be  sure  that  we  are 
acting  virtuously,  until  we  know  how  the  action  is  to  affect 
our  personal  interests.  Men  have  acted  from  the  highest 
and  purest  principles,  yet  have  been  in  reality  far  from  vir¬ 
tuous,  because  what  they  did  proved  not  for  their  own 
interests.  They  ought,  therefore,  to  cherish  feelings  of 
self-reproach  and  remorse  in  view  of  their  conduct. 

(2)  It  follows  from  this  theory  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  intentional  wrong-doing.  Men  always  act,  it  is  said,  from 
the  principle  of  self-love.  They  do  what  they  think  is  for 
their  own  advantage.  Finding  by  experience  that  certain 
actions  tend  to  their  advantage,  they  come  to  regard  such 
actions  as  right,  and  the  opposite,  for  the  same  reason,  as 
wrong.  What  have  we  here  for  a  syllogism  ? 

Man  acts  always  with  reference  to  his  own  good.  To  act 
with  reference  to  one’s  own  good,  is  to  act  right;  there¬ 
fore,  man  invariably  acts  right !  He  may  mistake,  and  do 
what  is  in  the  end  disadvantageous  ;  but  it  was  a  mistake, 
an  error  of  judgment,  and  not  an  intentional  wrong.  This 
is  on  the  whole  a  very  favorable  view  of  things,  and  may 
serve  to  relieve  somewhat  the  sombre  aspect  in  which  the 
world  and  poor  erring  human  nature  present  themselves 
to  a  certain  class  of  minds.  Men  are  not  so  bad,  after  all. 
They  do  as  well  as  they  know  how.  They  mean  to  be 
selfish,  and  to  consult  their  own  interests;  and  if  they 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


33 


sometimes  come  short  of  duty  in  this  respect,  it  is  an  error 
of  the  head  and  not  of  the  heart. 

(3)  It  follows,  also,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  disin¬ 
terested  virtue.  Utility  is  the  ground  of  rectitude,  the 
foundation  of  obligation.  We  ought,  therefore,  to  give  a 
man  credit  for  his  conduct,  just  in  proportion  as  we  per¬ 
ceive  him  to  have  been  governed  throughout  by  a  regard 
to  his  own  personal  advantage.  To  act  thus  is  to  act  right, 
and  to  comply  with  the  claims  of  duty.  There  can  be  no 
virtue  which  springs  not  from  this  source.  The  more  fully 
a  man  promotes  his  own  interests,  and  seeks  his  own  per¬ 
sonal  advantage,  in  all  he  does,  provided  only  there  be  no 
direct  violation  of  the  rights  of  others,  the  higher  esteem 
ought  we  to  cherish  for  that  man  in  our  hearts.  On  the 
other  hand,  where  an  action  is  of  such  a  nature  that  we 
are  not  quite  sure  whether  the  man  was  really  seeking  his 
own  advantage,  or  that  of  others ,  in  what  he  did,  we  ought 
to  withhold  our  approbation. 

But,  strange  to  say,  selfish  as  the  world  is,  it  does  not  so 
decide.  It  does  sensibly  diminish  our  moral  approbation 
of  any  act,  to  see,  or  suspect  even,  that  self-interest  was  the 
leading  motive  of  conduct;  it  heightens  our  admiration 
and  esteem,  to  perceive  that  the  act  was  performed 
without  the  least  regard  to  that,  but  from  entirely  different 
motives. 

Contradicts  Consciousness. — And  this  leads  us  to  re¬ 
mark,  in  general,  that  the  theory  under  consideration  con¬ 
tradicts  the  facts  of  consciousness.  If  utility  were  the 
ground  of  moral  obligation,  the  foundation  of  right,  then, 
whenever  we  recognize  such  obligation,  we  should  be 
conscious  of  this  element  as  the  basis  of  it — should  be 
conscious  of  perceiving  the  tendency  of  the  given  act  to 
promote  the  personal  happiness  or  the  personal  advantage 
of  the  doer,  and  that  our  conviction  of  obligation  in  the 


34 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


case  arose  from  that  circumstance ;  whereas,  in  fact,  we 
are  conscious  of  no  such  thing,  but  in  many  cases  of 
directly  the  reverse.  The  sense  of  obligation  exists,  not 
only  irrespective  of  the  idea  of  happiness  or  of  advantage 
to  be  derived  from  the  given  act,  but  often  in  opposition  to 
it ;  the  desire  of  happiness,  or  of  personal  advantage,  draw- 
ins:  us  in  one  direction,  the  sense  of  obligation  in  another. 
It  is  not  true  that  duty  and  interest  are  identical.  We 
have  different  names  for  them,  we  mean  different  things  ky 
them.  We  are  conscious  of  acting,  now  from  one,  now 
from  the  other,  of  these  principles.  It  is  not  true  that  men 
never  intentionally  do  what  they  know  to  be  wrong.  This 
was  the  capital  defect  in  the  ethical  system  of  Socrates,  and 
also  of  Plato,  who  make  virtue  a  matter  of  science,  and  sin 
to  be  merely  ignorance.  Whose  consciousness  does  not 
testify  the  opposite  of  this?  Who  will  not  say,  with 
Ovid, 


“  Video  meliora,  proboque,  detcriora  sequor ;  ” 

or,  with  Euripides,  “I  know  that  what  I  am  about  to  do  is 
evil,  but  desire  is  stronger  than  my  deliberations.”  Surely 
the  poets,  in  this  case,  are  more  nearly  right  than  the  phi¬ 
losophers.  Who  has  not  reason  to  say,  with  Paul,  “  That 
which  I  do,  I  allow  not.” 

Neither  is  it  true  that  we  act  always  from  personal  and 
selfish  considerations.  We  are  conscious  of  the  opposite  — 
conscious  of  doing  that  which  is  right,  because  it  is  right, 
and  not  for  the  sake  of  personal  advantage.  Nor  in  such 
cases  is  the  verdict  of  conscience  against  us ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  precisely  such  actions  that  draw  forth  the 
testimony  of  her  warmest  approbation  ;  so  far  from  re¬ 
proaching  us  for  not  acting  with  more  direct  and  uniform 
reference  to  our  own  advantage,  conscience  more  fre- 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


35 


quently  condemns  ns  for  having  acted  from  no  higher 
principle. 

We  cannot  but  regard  the  facts  of  consciousness,  then, 
as  altogether  at  variance  with  the  theory  under  consid¬ 
eration. 

Utility  as  denoting  Good  of  the  greatest  number .  —  Sup¬ 
pose,  now,  we  give  the  term  utility  a  still  wider  extension, 
meaning  by  it,  not  the  advantage  of  the  individual  merely, 
but  the  good  of  the  greatest  number  —  does  it  become  in 
this  sense  the  foundation  of  right  and  of  moral  obliga¬ 
tion  ?  There  are  still  insuperable  objections. 

In  the  first  place,  how  can  it  always  be  known  what  will 
promote  the  interests  of  the  greatest  number  ?  The  ten¬ 
dencies  and  results  of  actions  are  often  hidden  from  human 
perspicacity.  We  do  not  know  how  they  will  affect  the 
interests  of  any  considerable  number  of  persons.  A  labo¬ 
rious  calculation  of  consequences  would  in  most  cases  be 
necessary,  in  order  to  such  a  conclusion ;  and  even  then  we 
could  never  arrive  at  certainty  —  never  be  sure  that  our 
reasonings  and  conclusions  were  correct.  We  should  be  in 
suspense,  therefore,  as  to  the  morality  of  actions,  unable  to 
decide  whether  they  are  right  or  wrong,  until  we  could  first 
know  their  ultimate  bearing  on  the  general  welfare.  Such 
a  calculation  of  consequences  is  quite  beyond  the  capacity 
of  the  mass ;  only  the  more  enlightened  and  far-seeing  are 
competent  to  form  such  judgments,  and  even  they  not  with 
any  certainty.  Only  the  few,  therefore,  are  competent  to 
form  ideas  of  right  or  wrong,  and  apply  them  to  human 
conduct,  while  the  vast  multitude  are  left  without  any  such 
faculty  to  guide  them. 

At  variance  icith  Facts .  —  Furthermore,  it  may  be  justly 
objected  to  this  theory,  in  the  form  in  which  it  is  now 
stated,  that  it  is  directly  at  variance  with  the  facts  in  the 
case.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  do  not  always  calculate  the 


36 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


consequences  of  an  action  before  we  pronounce  it,  in  our 
minds,  right  or  wrong.  We  are  conscious  of  no  such  pro¬ 
cedure.  We  do  not  stop  to  know  what  bearing  it  is  likely 
to  have  on  the  public  welfare.  We  do  not  raise  the  ques¬ 
tion  at  all.  We  neither  know  nor  care.  Instinctively  we 
decide  as  to  the  propriety  and  rightness  of  the  given  act ; 
wre  approve  and  condemn  without  reference  to  consequen¬ 
ces,  and  on  other  grounds  than  that  of  expediency. 

It  is  fatal  to  this  theory  of  utility,  in  whatever  form  it  is 
stated,  whether  as  referring  to  the  happiness  of  the  individ¬ 
ual,  or  the  happiness  of  the  community  —  to  the  advantage 
of  the  individual,  or  the  advantage  of  all,  that,  so  far  from 
being  conscious  ordinarily  of  any  such  considerations,  in 
our  estimate  of  the  moralitv  of  actions,  wre  are  conscious 
of  quite  the  opposite.  Our  moral  decisions  are  often  pro¬ 
nounced  under  circumstances  which  preclude  th q possibility 
of  all  such  prudential  considerations.  Narrate  to  a  child, 
just  old  enough  to  understand  you,  some  story  of  flagrant 
injustice  and  wrong  —  the  flush  of  indignation,  the  glow  of 
resentment  are  visible  at  once  on  that  cheek ;  the  decision 
of  that  moral  nature,  its  verdict  of  disapproval  and  con¬ 
demnation,  is  to  be  read  at  once  in  that  eye,  that  brow, 
that  clenched  hand — the  whole  mien  and  aspect  of  the  min¬ 
iature  man.  Has  it  been  calculating  the  expediency  and 
utility  of  the  thing — the  consequences  to  society  of  what 
its  outraged  nature  condemns? 

Utility  presupposes  Obligation . —  But  there  is  a  further 
objection  to  making  utility,  in  any  of  its  significations,  the 
ground  of  moral  obligation.  It  is  that  all  these  principles 
as  thus  applied,  virtually  presuppose  the  existence  of 
moral  obligation,  and  therefore  cannot  be  the  ground  of  it. 
I  perceive  such  a  course  to  be  conducive  to  happiness ; 
therefore,  says  the  advocate  of  this  view,  I  am  under  obli¬ 
gation  to  pursue  that  course.  But  why  therefore?  Why 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


37 


ought?  Suppose  I  choose  to  clo  that  which  is  not ,  on  the 
whole,  for  my  happiness,  —  what  then  ?  Whose  business 
is  it  but  my  own  ?  Either  there  is  no  manner  of  obliga¬ 
tion  in  that  case,  or  else  it  lies  out  of  and  back  of  the 
principle  now  supposed.  The  same  may  be  said  of  utility 
in  the  sense  of  advantage.  It  presupposes  an  obligation 
to  do  what  is  seen  to  be  useful  and  advantageous;  and 
the  question  still  remains,  What  is  the  ground  of  that 
obligation  which  the  doctrine  of  utility  presupposes  ? 

II.  Theory  of  Legal  Enactment . —  Let  us  look,  now,  at 
the  theory  which  places  the  foundation  of  moral  obligation 
on  the  ground  of  positive  enactment .  Laws  have  been 
made,  human  and  divine,  requiring,  forbidding,  etc.  Hence 
our  approval  and  condemnation  of  actions,  and  our  convic¬ 
tion  of  obligation.  The  just  and  the  unjust,  the  right  and 
the  wwong,  in  human  conduct,  are  simply  its  conformity,  or 
want  of  conformity,  to  law. 

Of  those  who  take  this  ground,  some  look  no  higher 
than  to  human  enactment  as  the  ground  of  rectitude  and 
the  foundation  of  moral  obligation.  The  laws  of  man 
make  the  right  and  wrong  of  things,  and  are  the  sufficient 
and  ultimate  standard  of  morals.  There  is  no  higher  law. 
No  other  reason  need  be  given  why  I  should  do,  or  not 
do,  a  given  thing,  than  that  the  laws  of  my  country 
require  it. 

Such,  among  the  ancients,  was  the  doctrine  of  the  Soph¬ 
ists.  Plato,  in  the  “De  Legibus,”  and  Aristotle,  in  his 
“  Ethics,”  make  mention  of  the  doctrine  as  maintained  by 
some  in  their  day. 

Among  the  moderns,  Gassendi  and  Hobbes  are  almost 
the  only  writers  of  distinction  who  have  had  the  boldness 
to  avow,  and  the  consistency  to  maintain,  a  doctrine  at 
once  so  shameless,  so  obnoxious  to  the  common  sense  and 
common  honesty  of  mankind,  and  so  destructive  of  the 

4 


38 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


first  principles  of  morality.  Occasionally,  indeed,  the 
spectacle  is  presented  of  some  one,  more  patriotic  than 
discreet,  who,  in  his  zeal  to  defend  the  constitution  and 
laws  of  his  country,  so  far  forgets  himself,  in  the  pressure 
of  the  exigency,  as  to  take  the  general  position  that  the 
laws  of  the  land  are  to  us  the  final  court  of  appeal,  and 
that  we  are  to  look  no  higher  for  authority.  Even  such 
persons,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  are  not  fully  aware  of  the  true 
nature  and  legitimate  consequences  of  this  doctrine,  nor 
of  the  company  they  keep  in  maintaining  such  a  position. 

They  would  shrink,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  from  the  doctrine, 
reduced  to  its  simple  elements,  and  affirmed,  as  a  principle 
in  ethics,  that  might  makes  right ,  —  a  sentiment  that  even 
a  German  rationalist  has  pronounced  infernal , —  and  from 
the  atheism  that  discards  the  Deity,  and  overlooks  the 
moral  nature  of  man,  while  proclaiming  human  law  as  the 
standard  of  morals  and  the  foundation  of  right. 

Objection  to  this  View .  — If  it  were  of  any  use  to  reason 
against  a  doctrine  so  little  deserving  the  name  of  philoso¬ 
phy,  or  the  notice  of  a  calm  reply,  it  were  sufficient,  per¬ 
haps,  to  ask  how  it  is  possible,  on  this  principle,  since  law. 
is  itself  the  source  and  foundation  of  right,  to  compare 
one  law  or  code  with  another,  —  those  of  Draco,  e.  g .,  with 
those  of  Solon  or  Lycurgus;  the  edicts  of  Nero  with 
those  of  Constantine  ;  and  because  one  system  is  mild  and 
humane,  another  barbarous  and  inhuman,  pronounce  one 
to  be  more  right  and  just  than  the  other?  If  law  is  its 
own  authority;  if  it  makes  right;  :f  back  of  it  there  is  no 
appeal,  no  ultimate  standard  of  rectitude,  —  then,  of  course, 
everything  which  is  once  enacted,  and  obtains  the  sanction 
of  established  law,  is  right  and  binding,  no  matter  what  it 
/nay  be,  —  one  equally  so  with  another,  —  and  it  is  absurd 
to  make  a  distinction  between  them.  The  commands  of 
the  veriest  despot  are  as  just  and  right,  as  obligatory  on 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


39 


the  conscience,  as  those  of  the  wisest  and  mildest  ruler, 
JLaw  is  law,  and  that  ends  the  matter.  A  law  morally 
wrong  is  an  impossibility,  an  absurdity.  Inasmuch  as 
laws  vary,  moreover,  in  different  lands,  what  is  right  in  one 
country  is  wrong*  when  you  cross  a  river  or  a  mountain ; 
what  is  a  virtue  in  Holland  is  a  sin  in  Belgium. 

Divine  Lcnv  as  the  ground  of  Right.  —  Much  more  rea- 
sonable  and  philosophical  is  the  view  of  those  who  regard 
the  divine  will  and  law  as  the  foundation  of  moral  recti¬ 
tude.  This  view  was  maintained  by  Occam,  among  the 
scholastics  —  by  Paley,  and  many  others,  among  the  mod¬ 
erns.  Yet  even  to  this  view  insuperable  obstacles  arise. 

Objections  to  this  View . —  1.  If  this  view  be  correct, 
then  we  have  only  to  suppose  the  will  of  Deity  to  change, 
and  what  is  now  wrong  becomes  instantly  right,  —  the 
good  and  the  bad,  the  virtuous  and  the  vicious,  change 
characters  at  once.  We  have  only  to  suppose  him  other 
than  he  is,  and  to  have  commanded  other  than  he  has,  to 
have  reversed  the  decalogue;  and  the  things  now  com¬ 
manded  would  then  have  been  wrong,  and  the  things  now 
forbidden  would  have  been  right.  Murder,  adultery,  false 
witness,  theft,  covetousness,  would  have  been  virtues,  com¬ 
mendable  and  obligatory ;  while  to  honor  our  parents, 
and  to  love  our  neighbor  as  ourselves,  would  have  been 
morally  wrong.  In  other  words,  there  is  no  difference,  in 
respect  of  moral  character,  between  these  actions  in  them¬ 
selves  considered ;  the  difference  lies  wholly  in  the  Tact 
that  one  is  commanded,  and  the  other  forbidden  ;  they  are 
right  or  wrong  only  as  they  are,  or  are  not,  the  will  of 
Deity. 

It  is  no  answer  to  this  to  say  that  God  is  holy,  and 
therefore  will  not  command  that  which  is  evil ;  nor,  that 
he  is  immutable,  and  therefore  will  not  change.  The  ques¬ 
tion  is  not  as  to  the  matter  of  fact,  but  as  to  what  would 


40 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


be  true,  in  case  he  and  his  law  were  not  what  they  are.  If 
it  were  possible  for  God  to  throw  around  sin  the  sanction 
of  his  law,  would  it,  because  of  that  sanction,  cease  to  be 
sin,  and  become  holiness  ?  Does  the  rightness  of  an  act 
consist  wholly  and  simply  in  its  being  lawful  ? 

2.  It  follows,  also,  that,  had  there  been  no  divine  law  to 
establish  the  character  of  actions,  human  conduct  had  been 
neither  virtuous  nor  vicious,  neither  good  nor  bad ;  but 
all  actions  would  have  been  alike  indifferent.  To  hate  our 
neighbor,  to  take  his  property,  his  good  name,  or  his  life, 
would  have  been  not  only  allowable,  but  equally  as  com¬ 
mendable  and  meritorious  as  the  opposite.  Nothing  would 
have  been  unjust,  nothing  wrong. 

3.  There  is  no  propriety  or  sense  in  speaking  of  God’s 
law  as  just  and  good;  in  affirming  that  his  statutes  are 
right,  his  commandments  holy,  etc.;  for  moral  approba¬ 
tion  is  wholly  misplaced  and  uncalled  for.  It  is  without 
meaning.  For,  if  there  is  no  standard  of  right,  and  no 
ground  of  obligation  but  the  law  itself,  how  can  its  re¬ 
quirements  be  any  other  than  right  and  binding,  whatever 
they  may  be?  To  say  that  his  statutes  are  just  and  right, 
is  to  say,  simply,  that  his  statutes  are  his  statutes.  More 
than  this:  when  we  speak  of  the  law  as  holy,  just,  etc.,  do 
we  not  attribute  a  moral  character  to  the  law  itself?  But 
how  can  this  be?  If  the  law  creates  moral  distinctions, 
how  can  law  itself  possess  a  moral  character?  —  how  can 
it  be  either  right  or  wrong?  This  is  to  suppose  right  cre¬ 
ated,  and  yet  to  have  existed  before  it  was  created. 

4.  Further,  for  the  same  reason,  we  are  shut  out,  on  this 
principle,  from  attributing  to  Deity  himself  any  moral 
character.  Law  is  the  foundation  of  right,  and  law  is  from 
God.  Back  of  his  will  there  is  no  law,  and,  of  course,  no 
ground  of  rectitude.  God  has  himself,  therefore,  aside 
from  his  own  law,  no  moral  character,  no  virtue ;  for,  be- 


41 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 

yond  his  own  will  and  pleasure,  there  is  no  law  imposing 
obligation,  and  constituting  for  him  the  right  and  the 
wrong.  One  thing  is  as  right  as  another  for  him  ;  every¬ 
thing  is  equally  right ;  and,  strictly  speaking,  nothing  is, 
for  him,  either  right  or  wrong.  It  is  language  without 
meaning  when  we  say,  with  one  of  old,  “  Holy,  holy,  holy 
Lord  God,  just  and  true  are  thy  ways.”  Before  he  en¬ 
acted  the  first  law,  there  was  no  such  thing  as  right.  It 
depended  entirely  on  his  pleasure  whether  to  enact  that 
law.  There  was  no  obligation  to  enact  it ;  for  no  law,  as 
yet,  existed  to  create  obligation.  Suppose  he  had  not 
done  it?  —  right  would  not  have  existed,  and,  of  course,  in 
that  case,  could  not  have  pertained  to  the  divine  charac¬ 
ter.  Not  until  he  creates  the  right  by  making  law,  can 
he  by  any  possibility  possess  a  moral  character;  and  even 
then,  it  is  a  moral  character  which  he  himself  creates,  and 
imposes  upon  himself  by  arbitrary  enactment.  Had  he 
made  a  law  precisely  the  reverse  of  the  actual  one,  it 
would  have  been  equally  right  and  binding,  and  himself 
equally  as  holy.  But  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  thing 
made  can  put  the  maker  himself  under  obligation ;  how 
from  his  own  work  he  can  derive  the  foundation  of  a  char¬ 
acter  which  he  had  not  in  himself  prior  to  the  work.  It  is 
difficult  to  estimate  the  intrinsic  excellence  of  that  holi¬ 
ness  which  owes  its  origin  to  a  purely  arbitrary  enactment ; 
which  might  just  as  well  never  have  been  made,  or  have 
been  entirely  other  than,  and  the  reverse  of,  what  it  is;  —  a 
holiness  which,  when  strictly  viewed,  amounts  merely  to 
this,  —  that  the  being  who  possesses  it  does  wliat  he  does . 

Law  as  the  Basis  of  Obligation .  —  It  may  be  supposed, 
perhaps,  by  some,  that  the  divine  law,  while  it  may  not  ab¬ 
solutely  create  the  distinction  of  right  and  wrong,  does 
nevertheless  create  the  obligation  on  our  part  to  do,  or  not 
to  do,  the  things  required ;  that  it  is  to  me  the  sufficient 


42 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


reason  why  I  ought  to  do  thus  and  thus.  This  is  a  view 
entitled  to  a  careful  consideration.  I  must  do  thus,  because 
such  is  the  will  of  Deity.  The  question  is  now  as  to  this 
word  because .  Granting  that  the  will  of  Deity  is  as 
affirmed,  what  has  that  to  do  with  my  conduct?  —  wherein 
and  how  does  that  place  me  under  obligation  to  do  what 
the  Deity  wills  ?  Where  lies  the  binding  power  of  the  law 
itself?  Manifestly  not  in  itself,  as  law,  but  in  something 
else.  There  must  be  something  to  make  the  law  binding, 
or  it  can  bring  with  it  no  obligation  to  obedience  on  my 
part.  And  in  saying  this,  we  really  abandon  the  position, 
that  law  is  itself  the  basis  of  obligation . 

This  something  we  may  find  in  one  of  three  things.  It 
maybe  in  the  character  of  the  law  given,  —  a  holy,  just,  and 
good  law,  and  one  which  we  ought  therefore  to  obey.  But 
this  is  to  place  the  ground  of  obligation,  not  in  the  law 
itself,  but  in  something  else,  viz.,  moral  rectitude.  I  am 
bound  to  obey,  not  because  there  is  a  law,  but  because 
there  is  a  holy  and  just  law. 

Or  we  may  trace  the  binding  power  of  the  law  to  the 
relation  which  the  Deity  sustains  to  us.  He  is  our  creator, 
preserver,  benefactor ;  and  as  such,  has  the  right,  it  is  said,  to 
control  and  govern  us.  But  does  this,  we  reply,  give  him 
the  right  to  govern  and  control,  irresjiective  of  moral  dis¬ 
tinctions  ?  If  it  does,  then  right  and  wrong  are  the  mere 
arbitrary  creations  of  his  will,  —  a  view  which  we  have 
already  considered  and  rejected.  If  it  does  not,  then  the 
ultimate  ground  of  obligation  is  to  be  found  in  the  rectitude 
of  the  divine  requirements.  In  either  case,  it  is  not  the 
law  itself  that  constitutes  the  obligation. 

Does,  then,  that  which  constitutes  the  binding  force  of 
the  divine  law  consist  in  this :  that  the  Deity  is  in  himself 
such  a  being  as  he  is,  the  greatest,  the  wisest,  the  best ;  and 
therefore  his  will  is  obligatory  on  other  beings  ?  This  again 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


43 


is  to  recognize  moral  distinctions  as  lying  back  of  the  law 
itself,  and  as  giving  to  that  law  its  character  and  its  force. 
When  you  say  that  God  is  good,  just,  holy,  the  best  of 
beings,  and,  on  that  account,  ought  to  be  obeyed,  you 
abandon  the  position,  that  law  itself  creates  moral  distinc¬ 
tions,  and  that  it  contains  in  itself  the  ground  of  obligation. 
His  being  and  nature  are  prior  to  his  law,  and  the  founda¬ 
tion  of  it ;  and  if  his  being  and  nature  are  themselves  good, 
then  certainly  it  is  not  his  law  that  makes  them  so  ;  and  if 
it  is  from  them  that  our  obligation  to  obedience  springs, 
then  certainly  not  from  the  law  itself. 

Whatever  view  we  take,  then,  of  this  matter,  we  are 
compelled  to  give  up  the  position  that  the  divine  law  is 
the  ground  of  moral  obligation.  An  action  is  right,  not 
because  God  wills  it ;  on  the  contrary,  he  wills  it  because  it 
is  right . 

View  of  Dr.  Chalmers.  —  The  distinction  between  the 
rightness  and  the  lawfulness  of  an  act,  is  admitted  by  some, 
who  still  place  obligation  on  the  ground  of  law.  This  is 
the  case  with  Chalmers.  In  general,  it  may  be  remarked, 
that  no  writer  breathes  throughout  a  higher  moral  tone 
and  purpose,  or  utters  truth  with  more  eloquence  and 
earnestness  than  he.  His  style  is  an  avalanche  broken 
loose,  a  sea  of  expression,  rolling,  sentence  after  sentence, 
wave  upon  wave,  with  a  loftiness  and  force  quite  irresisti¬ 
ble.  It  is  the  style  of  the  orator,  however,  rather  than  of 
the  philosopher ;  indicating  fervor  and  strength  of  feeling, 
rather  than  precision  and  clearness  of  thought.  There  is 
a  certain  nobleness  of  sentiment  that  wins  our  admiration. 
We  feel  sure  that  some  leviathan  is  ploughing  up  those 
waters,  and  making  them  to  boil  ;  but  it  is  a  leviathan  not 
willing  to  be  caught  and  classified  for  purposes  of  science. 
In  the  present  case,  Dr.  Chalmers,  if  we  understand  him, 
derives  obligation  from  the  divine  law,  but  right  from  the 


44 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


divine  character;  thus  separating  the  two.  While  he  rejects 
the  view  of  Paley,  that  makes  the  divine  command  the 
foundation  of  right,  he  still  makes  that  command  the  foun¬ 
dation  of  our  obligation  to  do  the  right.  Not  until  Deity 
interj) oses  with  his  authority  in  its  behalf,  does  the  right 
become  obligatory. 

Objection  to  this  View.  —  It  is  difficult  to  perceive  the 
justness  of  this  distinction.  In  the  first  place,  it  limits  the 
term  obligation  to  a  strictly  forensic  use,  a  sense  to  which 
it  is  by  no  means  restricted.  A  wider  sense  belongs  to  it. 
We  are  under  obligation,  ethically  speaking,  to  do  many 
things  not  specifically  required  by  law.  But,  more  than 
this,  it  seems  to  divorce  obligation  from  right,  as  if  right 
did  not  carry  in  itself  a  corresponding  obligation,  but  was 
dependent  on  law  to  come  in  and  give  it  authority;  or  as 
if,  on  the  other  hand,  obligation  might  sometimes,  or  might 
at  least  be  supposed  to,  run  counter  to  right. 

JRight  and  Obligation,  how  related.  —  We  cannot  think 
such  a  distinction  either  necessary  or  allowable.  On  the 
contrary,  we  regard  right  and  obligation  as  coextensive,  and 
on  a  common  basis.  The  foundation  and  origin  of  the  one, 
is  also  the  source  and  foundation  of  the  other.  Given, 
the  right,  and  there  is  given  along  with  it  the  obligation  to 
do  the  right.  We  cannot  conceive  them  separate;  the  former 
without  the  latter;  a  right  thing  which  we  are  under  no 
obligation  to  do,  or  a  wrong  thing  which  we  are  under  no 
obligation  to  avoid.  This  obligation  is  universal,  absolute, 
complete.  Law  cannot  add  to  it,  or  make  it  more  perfect 
than  it  already  is.  Law  may  indicate  and  enforce,  but  can¬ 
not  create  moral  obligation.  Show  me  that  a  thing  is  right , 
and  you  show  me  a  reason,  and  the  best  of  all  reasons,  why 
I  ought  to  do  it.  The  moment  I  perceive  the  rightness,  I 
perceive  also  the  obligation.  If  the  one  is  founded  in  law, 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


45 


so  is  the  other ;  if  the  divine  character  is  the  foundation  of 
the  one,  it  is  the  ground  of  the  other  also. 

Matters  of  an  Indifferent  Nature .  —  It  is  admitted  that, 
in  respect  to  matters  in  themselves  indifferent,  as,  for  in¬ 
stance,  the  ceremonies  of  a  ritual  observance,  law  may 
impose  an  obligation  not  previously  existing.  But  such  is 
not  the  case  now  under  consideration.  We  are  concerned, 
in  this  discussion,  only  with  such  matters  as  come  under 
the  cognizance  of  the  moral  faculty,  as  being  in  themselves 
right  or  wrong ;  and  the  question  is,  What  constitutes  the 
obligation  to  do,  not  a  thing  indifferent,  but  a  thing  which 
we  perceive  and  know  to  be  right  ?  Our  answer  is  :  The 
very  rightness  constitutes  the  obligation.  The  question  re¬ 
turns  then,  On  what  does  the  rightness  depend  ?  Not  on 
utility,  not  on  law.  An  action  is  right,  not  because  expe¬ 
dient;  but  expedient,  because  right.  It  is  right,  not  because 
God  wills  it ;  on  the  contrary,  he  wills  it  because  it  is  right . 
What,  then,  constitutes  rightness  ? 

III.  The  Divine  Nature  the  Source  of  Right.  —  It  may 
be  said  that  right  and  wrong  lie  not  in  any  of  these  things, 
—  not  in  the  pursuit  of  happiness  or  of  personal  advantage ; 
not  in  law,  human  or  divine,  —  but  in  the  nature  and  char¬ 
acter  of  God  himself  This,  as  we  have  already  stated,  is 
the  view  of  Chalmers.  It  is  the  view,  also,  of  many  others. 
W e  have  discussed  so  fully  the#  previous  theories,  that  there 
is  no  need  of  dwelling  long  upon  this.  The  same  objections 
that  lie  against  the  theory  of  divine  law,  as  the  source  of 
obligation  and  the  ground  of  right,  apply  with  equal  force 
to  this  view.  God’s  law  is  but  the  expression  of  his  will ; 
and  his  will  is  but  the  expression  and  transcript  of  his  char¬ 
acter.  It  is  his  nature  in  action.  To  say  that  his  law 
constitutes  right,  then,  is  virtually  saying,  in  another  form, 
that  his  nature  and  character  are  the  ground  of  right ;  and 


46 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


whatever  objections  lie  against  the  one  view,  are,  in  reality, 
equally  objections  to  the  other. 

Objection  to  this  View. —  If  right  or  wrong  depend,  ulti¬ 
mately,  on  the  character  of  God,  then  we  have  only  to 
suppose  God  to  change,  or  to  have  been  originally  other 
than  he  is,  and  our  duties  and  obligations  change  at  once ; 
—  that  which  was  a  virtue,  becomes  a  crime  ;  that  which  is 
a  crime,  is  transformed  into  a  virtue.  Had  he  been  pre¬ 
cisely  the  reverse  of  what  he  is,  he  had  still  been,  as  now, 
the  source  of  right,  and  his  own  character  would  have  been 
as  truly  good,  and  just,  and  right,  as  it  is  now.  This  is, 
virtually,  to  rob  him  of  all  moral  character.  We  may  still 
say  that  he  is  holy,  and  that  his  ways  are  right ;  but  we 
mean  by  it  only  this,  when  we  come  to  explain,  —  that  he 
is  what  he  is,  and  does  what  he  does.  The  holiness  of  his 
acts  consists,  not  at  all  in  the  essential  character  of  the 
acts  themselves,  but  only  in  the  circumstance  that  they  are 
his  acts. 

It  does  not  meet  this  objection  to  say  that  God  is  holy,  — 
holy  by  a  necessity  of  his  nature,  —  and  that  he  can  never 
be  otherwise  :  that  is  not  the  question  ;  but  simply,  whether 
his  being  what  he  is  is  the  ground  of  all  rectitude  and  of 
all  obligation  ;  whether  that  which  he  does  is  right  because 
it  conforms  to  his  character ,  or  whether  his  character  is 
holy  because  it  conforms  to  the  right .  This  is  a  very 
important  distinction. 

We  have  this  objection,  then,  to  the  view  which  re¬ 
solves  virtue  into  the  divine  character,  and  makes  right 
inherent  originally  in  the  divine  nature :  that  while  it 
seeks  to  honor  God  by  making  him  the  source  of  all  excel¬ 
lence,  it  really  takes  away  from  his  character  the  highest 
excellence  and  glory  that  can  pertain  to  it  —  that  of 
conforming  to  the  right. 

IV.  The  Eternal  Nature  of  Things  as  the  Ground  of 


47 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 

% 

Right . —  We  seem  to  be  driven,  then,  to  the  only  remain* 
ing  conclusion,  that  right  and  wrong  are  distinctions  im¬ 
mutable  and  inherent  in  the  nature  of  things.  They  are 
not  the  creations  of  expediency,  nor  of  law  ;  nor  yet  do 
they  originate  in  the  divine  character.  They  have  no 
origin ;  they  are  eternal  as  the  throne  of  Deity ;  they  are 
immutable  as  God  himself.  Nay,  were  God  himself  to 
change,  these  distinctions  would  change  not.  Omnipo¬ 
tence  has  no  power  over  them,  whether  to  create  or  to 
destroy.  Law  does  not  make  them,  but  they  make  law. 
They  are  the  source  and  spring  of  all  law  and  all  obliga¬ 
tion.  Reason  points  out  these  distinctions ;  the  moral 
nature  recognizes  and  approves  them.  God’s  law,  and 
will,  and  nature,  are  in  conformity  to  these  distinctions; 
else  that  law  were  not  just  and  right,  nor  that  nature  holy. 
Our  moral  nature  is  in  conformity  to  these  distinctions  ; 
hence  we  approve  and  disapprove,  as  we  do,  the  various 
actions  of  men.  The  deeds  are  right,  not  because  we 
approve  them ;  on  the  contrary,  we  approve  them  because 
they  are  right.  They  are  right,  not  because  they  are  com¬ 
manded  ;  but  they  are  commanded  because  they  are  right. 

Even  Deity  subject  to  the  Law  of  Right .  —  There  is  a 
sense  in  which  Deity  himself  is  subject  to  this  eternal  and 
immutable  law  of  right.  There  are  things  which  it  would 
not  be  right  for  even  Deity  to  do.  So  fully  does  his  moral 
nature  approve  the  right  and  abhor  the  wrong,  that  the 
Scriptures  declare  it  impossible  for  him  to  do  evil.  There 
is  no  purity  like  his ;  no  approval  of  the  right,  no  con¬ 
demnation  and  abhorrence  of  the  wrong,  so  strong  and 
intense  as  his,  in  the  whole  universe.  This,  his  moral 
nature,  is  to  him  a  law,  the  highest  possible  and  conceiva¬ 
ble,  placing  him  under  obligation,  not  indeed  to  another, 
but  to  himself,  to  adhere  ever  to  the  eternal  principles  of 
right,  and  truth,  and  justice. 


48 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


This  View  honors  God .  —  In  their  anxiety  to  honor  and 
exalt  the  Divine  Being,  some  have  shrunk  from  the  idea 
that  there  is  any  law  or  obligation  resting  on  the  Deity  to 
do  one  thing  rather  than  another,  —  that  there  is,  or  can  be, 
anything  which  it  would  be  wrong  for  him  to  do.  But, 
which  most  honors  and  exalts  God  —  to  resolve  the  distinc¬ 
tion  of  right  and  wrong  into  the  arbitrary  decisions  of  his 
will,  thus  leaving  him  without  moral  character,  or  to 
regard  that  distinction  as  immutable  and  eternal,  extend¬ 
ing  even  to  the  throne  and  will  of  him  who  layeth  the 
beams  of  his  chambers  in  the  waters,  and  hangeth  the 
earth  upon  nothing?  Which  most  honors  him  —  to  make 
his  nature  and  his  will  the  foundation  of  right,  or  the 
eternal  principles  of  right  and  justice  the  foundation  of 
his  character  and  his  law  ?  Which  gives  the  noblest  and 
most  exalted  conception  of  the  Divine  Being?  Which  of 
these  two  views  imparts  the  loftier  significance  to  that 
sublime  anthem  of  the  angels,  that  goes  up  unceasingly 
before  his  throne,  and  shall  yet  go  up  from  the  entire 
universe :  “  Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  God  Almighty,  which 
was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come  ?  ”  and  to  that  song  of  the 
redeemed  that  stand  upon  the  sea  of  glass  :  “  Just  and  true 
are  thy  ways,  thou  king  of  saints.  Who  shall  not  fear 
thee,  O  Lord!  and  glorify  thy  name  ?  ” 

Objection  stated  and  answered .  —  It  may  be  said,  per¬ 
haps,  that  to  make  right  and  wrong  inherent  in  the  nature 
of  things,  is  virtually  to  place  their  foundation  and  origin 
in  God ;  since  the  nature  of  things  depends,  after  all,  on 
him.  He  who  made  all  things,  is  the  author  of  their  nature 
also. 

This  objection  derives  its  force  from  the  somewhat 
indefinite  expression,  “  nature  of  things ,” — a  phrase  used 
with  great  latitude  of  meaning.  As  used  to  denote  material 
objects  and  their  qualities,  it  is  true  that  both  things  and 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


49 


the  nature  of  things  are  the  work  of  God;  as  used  to 
denote  finite  intelligences,  the  same  is  true,  —  they  are  the 
work  of  the  Divine  Intelligence,  they  and  their  original 
nature.  But  when  we  speak  of  things  and  the  nature 
of  things,  as  applicable  to  this  discussion,  we  do  not,  of 
course,  refer  to  material  objects,  nor  yet  to  spiritual  intelli¬ 
gences,,  but  to  the  actions  and  moral  conduct  of  intelligent 
beings,  created  or  uncreated,  finite  or  infinite.  We  mean 
to  say,  that  such  and  such  acts,  of  an  intelligent,  voluntary 
agent,  whoever  he  may  be,  are,  in  their  very  nature ,  right 
or  wrong.  Now,  God  does  not  create  the  actions  of  intel¬ 
ligent,  free  agents ;  and,  of  course,  does  not  create  the  na¬ 
ture  of  those  actions.  To  say  that  the  moral  character  of 
an  act  is  created  by  Deity,  is  simply  to  beg  the  question 
in  dispute. 

The  Theory  asserts  what.  — When  we  say  that  right  and 
■wrong  are  inherent,  then,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  we 
simply  assert  that  certain  courses  of  conduct  are,  in  their 
very  nature  and  essence,  wrong  —  certain  others,  right ; 
that  they  are  so,  quite  independent  and  irrespective  of  the 
consequences  that  result  from  them,  or  of  the  sanctions 
and  authority  with  which  they  may  be  invested ;  that  they 
are  so,  not  because  of  the  laws,  either  human  or  divine, 
that  give  them  force ;  that  they  would  be  so,  were  there 
no  law,  or  were  it  the  opposite  of  what  it  is;  that  even  the 
actions  of  Deity  himself  fall  within  the  range  of  this  uni¬ 
versal  principle  ;  and  that  it  does  not  depend  on  his  will, 
or  even  his  nature,  much  less  on  his  power  as  Creator,  to 
establish  or  abolish  this  immutable  distinction. 

We  say  it  is  in  the  very  nature  of  things  that  the  whole 
is  greater  than  a  part;  that  a  straight  line  is  the  shortest 
distance  between  two  points  ;  that  two  straight  lines  can¬ 
not  enclose  a  space.  We  cannot  conceive  the  opposite  to 

be  true.  It  does  not  depend  on  the  will  of  Deity  whether 

5 


60 


GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


these  things  shall  be  so  or  not.  He  does  not  create  these 
relations.  They  are  eternal  and  necessary  truths.  In  like 
manner,  there  are  certain  truths  pertaining  to  the  conduct 
of  all  rational  and  intelligent  beings,  —  certain  moral  dis¬ 
tinctions,  which  we  regard  as  immutable  and  eternal, — 
inherent  in  the  very  nature  of  things.  And  on  this  firm, 
eternal  basis  rests  the  foundation  of  our  moral  obligation. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 

Question  stated .  —  What  makes  a  thing  right  is  one 
question,  and  how  do  we  know  it  to  be  right,  is  quite 
another.  The  former  was  discussed  in  the  preceding  chap¬ 
ter  ;  the  latter  is  now  before  us.  What  rule  have  we  by 
which  to  judge  of  the  moral  quality  of  actions?  —  what 
standard?  —  what  means  of  information?  The  decision 
of  the  former  question  is  not  necessarily  the  decision  also 
of  this.  That  which  is  the  ground  of  right,  and  the  basis 
of  moral  obligation,  is  not,  of  necessity,  the  source  of  out 
knowledge  respecting  the  right,  and  the  rule  of  our  duty. 

Tlie  Answer.  —  It  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  the  question 
before  us,  to  say,  in  general,  that  the  will  of  God  must  be 
regarded  as  the  rule  of  right  and  the  standard  of  duty  to 
man.  The  divine  will,  while  it  is  not  the  source  and  ground 
of  right  —  as  already  shown — is  nevertheless  the  source 
of  our  knowledge  of  right,  the  rule  of  duty  to  us.  It  does 
not  create  right,  but  reveals  it,  makes  it  known.  That  will 
itself  reposes  upon  the  right,  and  is  conformed  to  it.  That 
will  is  our  law.  Such  is  the  character  of  the  Divine  Being, 


THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 


51 


and  such,  also,  our  relation  to  him,  as  Creator,  Governor, 
Benefactor,  as  to  make  his  will  binding  upon  us,  and  that 
law,  which  is  holy,  just,  and  good,  our  rightful  and  only 
proper  rule  of  action. 

That  Will ,  hoio  revealed .  —  This  rule  is  made  known  to 
us  in  various  w^ays.  It  is  given,  first  of  all,  in  the  moral 
nature  of  man  himself,  who  is  endowed  with  the  faculty 
of  distinguishing  between  right  and  wrong,  and  is  so  con¬ 
stituted  that,  by  the  law  of  his  nature,  he  approves  the 
right  and  disapproves  the  wrong,  whenever  perceived. 
It  is  given  also  in  the  constitution  of  nature,  in  the  order¬ 
ing  and  arrangement  of  things  about  us;  which  constitu¬ 
tion  and  arrangement  are  such  as  to  indicate  clearly  the 
will  of  the  Deity  as  to  the  course  which  wre  should  pursue. 

It  is  given  yet  more  fully  and  clearly  in  that  revelation 
which  he  has  made  of  his  will  in  the  sacred  Scriptures. 

I.  In  the  Moral  Nature  of  Man .  —  Such  is  the  constitu¬ 
tion  of  the  mind  as  to  fit  it  for  taking  cognizance  of  moral 
distinctions,  and,  what  is  more,  for  approving  the  right 
whenever  perceived,  and  condemning  the  wrong.  And 
this  moral  nature  and  constitution  of  the  human  mind  is 
from  God,  and  is  in  itself  an  indication  of  his  will.  It 
may  not,  of  itself,  point  out  with  clearness  and  definite¬ 
ness,  in  all  cases,  what  actions  are  right,  and  wThat  are 
wrong ;  this  may  be,  to  some  extent,  a  matter  of  opinion 
and  judgment  —  a  matter  of  belief  rather  than  of  positive 
knowledge ;  yet,  within  certain  limits,  the  moral  nature  of 

m 

man  decides  without  hesitation  as  to  the  character  of 
given  actions,  and  approves  or  condemns  accordingly.  It 
is  seldom  at  a  loss  as  to  the  great  dividing  lines  which 
separate  the  kingdoms  of  right  and  wrong,  of  crime  and 
duty.  An  instance  of  flagrant  injustice  or  ingratitude, 
related  in  the  hearing  of  a  child,  or  of  a  savage,  unbiassed 
by  education  and  the  restraints  of  civilization  and  society, 


52 


THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 


calls  forth  at  once  his  disapproval,  and  awakens  his  indig¬ 
nation  at  the  wrong.  It  is  the  voice  of  nature,  essentially 
the  same  in  all  climes  and  ages  of  the  world,  approving 
the  right,  condemning  the  wrong.  It  is  the  voice  of  God, 
speaking  through  the  moral  nature  and  constitution  which 
he  has  bestowed  upon  his  creatures.  Thus  it  is,  that  they 
which  have  not  the  law,  “are  a  law  unto  themselves.” 

II.  In  the  Constitution  of  Nature.  —  The  will  of  the  Cre¬ 
ator  is  further  revealed  in  the  constitution  and  nature  of 
things  about  us.  It  is  impossible  for  one  of  ordinary  intel¬ 
ligence  and  habits  of  observation  not  to  perceive  a  fixed 
connection  between  virtue  and  happiness,  vice  and  misery, 
in  the  world.  Certain  courses  of  conduct  are  uniformly 
attended  with  certain  results.  It  is  the  natural  tendency 
of  a  certain  manner  of  life  to  produce  misery  and  evil 
consequences ;  it  is  the  tendency  of  an  opposite  course  to 
produce  opposite  results.  And  from  this  alone  might  be 
inferred,  with  sufficient  clearness  and  certainty,  what  is 
the  will  of  the  Creator,  as  to  the  course  which  his  crea¬ 
tures  sli all  pursue.  These  results  are  intended,  not  acci¬ 
dental  ;  and  they  are  intended  as  an  indication  of  the 
divine  will. 

A  Case  supposed .  —  Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  the 
question  to  arise  in  the  mind  of  an  intelligent  heathen, 
having  no  other  than  the  light  of  nature  to  guide  him, 
whether  a  life  of  sensual  gratification — the  indulgence, 
without  restraint,  of  the  merely  animal  appetites  —  were 
agreeable  to  the  divine  will.  He  finds  such  indulgence  to 
be  attended  with  momentary  gratification,  followed  by 
subsequent  misery;  that  it  results  in  injury  to  the  powers 
of  body  and  of  mind  ;  that  its  tendency  is  to  suffering, 
poverty,  vice,  crime.  He  observes  these  facts.  He  per¬ 
ceives  them  to  be  the  legitimate  and  inevitable  results  of 
<he  constitution  of  nature,  a  part  of  the  system  of  things; 


THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 


53 


and  if  he  acknowledges  the  system  itself  to  have  had  an 
intelligent  originator  and  designer,  can  he  be  at  a  loss  as 
to  the  intention  and  will  of  that  Creator  in  the  case  sup¬ 
posed  ? 

It  is  in  this  way  that  we  may  learn  from  the  constitution 
of  nature  what  is  the  will  of  our  Creator.  All  nature  has 
its  laws.  Man,  as  a  part  of  the  great  system  of  nature,  is 
no  exception  to  the  rule.  Both  his  physical  and  his  spirit¬ 
ual  being  have  their  laws.  These  laws  are  to  be  learned, 
in  either  case,  by  observing  the  results  and  tendencies  of 
different  actions;  and  the  laws  of  our  moral  nature,  thus 
ascertained,  constitute  wThat  we  may  call  a  system  of  nat¬ 
ural  religion. 

Whether  this  is  really  Law .  —  And  here  the  question  may 
arise,  whether  that  which  we  call  law  in  such  cases —  as  in 
the  expression,  laics  of  our  moral  nature  —  is  really,  after 
all,  of  the  nature  of  law,  properly  so  called ;  or  whether  it 
is  merely  advice  or  admonition.  Certain  courses  of  con¬ 
duct,  it  is  admitted,  tend  to  produce  misery  and  ruin,  while 
other  courses  promote  the  happiness  of  all  concerned. 
This  is  to  be  construed,  however,  it  may  be  said,  not  as  a 
law  prohibiting  and  commanding,  but  as  simply  an  indica¬ 
tion,  or  admonition,  as  to  the  course  which  it  is  wisest  and 
best  for  us  to  pursue.  The  suffering  which  follows  wrong¬ 
doing  is  not  a  punishment  of  the  wrong,  but  simply  a 
warning  against  its  future  commission. 

I  reply :  it  is  of  no  consequence  to  the  present  argument 
whether  it  be  the  one  or  the  other  — whether  punishment 
or  merely  warning  —  whether  law,  or  merely  advice.  In 
either  case,  it  is  a  sufficient  indication  of  the  will  of  the 
Creator  respecting  the  course  which  his  creatures  should 
pursue.  It  showrs  plainly  enough  what  his  wishes  and 
instructions  are  —  what  he  meant  by  constituting  us  as 
he  did. 

5* 


54 


THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 


JVot  mere  Advice .  —  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  the 
indications  to  which  I  refer  are  not  merely  advisory,  but, 
in  many  cases  at  least,  prohibitory;  not  mere  warning, 
but  punishment.  The  suffering  comes  after,  and  often 
long  after,  the  wrong  has  been  done,  as  in  the  case  of  those 
youthful  follies  which  produce  their  results  in  subsequent 
years,  when  the  evil  is  accomplished,  and  the  constitution 
already  hopelessly  impaired.  The  consequences,  in  such 
a  case,  are  not  fully  known  until  it  is  already  too  late  to 
remedy  the  evil.  Nay,  the  man  may  already  have  re¬ 
formed,  and  his  life  may  be  one  of  active  and  noble  useful¬ 
ness  ;  yet,  nevertheless,  the  punishment,  long  delayed  and 
slow  of  approach,  but  sure  as  the  established  laws  of  the 
universe,  shall  by-and-by  overtake  him.  The  fires  which 
youthful  folly  and  vice  have  kindled  are  not  always  extin¬ 
guished  by  the  tears  of  subsequent  repentance,  but  burn 
on,  slowly  consuming,  until  the  whole  structure  lies  in 
ruins.  There  is  a  point,  moreover,  beyond  which  even 
reformation  becomes  hopeless,  not  to  say  impossible.  All 
further  warning  and  admonition,  in  such  a  case,  are  use¬ 
less;  yet  the  suffering,  which  is  the  inevitable  result  of 
wrong-doing,  is  none  the  less  inflicted. 

Now,  in  these  cases,  the  misery  which  is  consequent 
upon  vice  cannot  be  intended  as  warning  or  admonition, 
for  it  comes  too  late ;  the  evil  is  done.  It  is  not  advice, 
but  law ;  not  warning,  but  penalty.  If  it  be  said  the 
suffering  is  intended  as  a  warning  to  others,  I  reply,  so  is 
all  punishment ;  but  is  none  the  less  punishment  on  that 
account. 

III.  In  Revelation .  —  The  will  of  God  is  further  made 
known  in  that  revelation  which  he  has  given  us  in  the 
sacred  Scriptures.  The  sources  of  information  already 
considered  are  at  the  best  imperfect  and  defective.  There 
was  need  of  another,  a  more  direct,  a  more  complete  and 


THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 


55 


explicit  declaration  of  the  divine  will.  In  the  Scriptures 
we  have  this  needed  revelation.  They  supply  the  defects 
of  the  previous  sources  of  information  —  make  known  to 
man  what  he  most  needs  to  know  respecting  himself, 
his  Maker,  and  the  uncertain  future,  and  bring  to  bear 
upon  him  motives  to  obedience  and  a  right  life,  such  as 
could  be  drawn  from  no  other  source.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  man’s  moral  nature  teaches  him  much ;  much 
also  the  constitution  of  things  around  him  ;  and  it  may  be 
fairly  conceded  that  an  honest,  sincere  inquirer  after  truth, 
having  no  other  means  of  information  than  the  light  thus 
derived,  but  disposed  to  make  the  best  use  of  the  instruc¬ 
tion  thus  obtained,  would  not  be  likely  to  go  far  astray  in 
his  views  of  what  constitutes  a  right  course  of  life. 

Yet,  in  both  the  sources  of  information  already  consid¬ 
ered,  there  are,  it  must  be  confessed,  serious  deficiencies, 
such  as  render  a  further  and  better  revelation  of  the  divine 
will  an  absolute  necessity  of  the  race. 

Mcuis  Moral  Nature  Defective. — As  to  the  moral  faculty, 
while  it  enables  us  to  comprehend  the  right  and  the  wrong 
as  made  known  to  us,  —  while  it  causes  us  to  perceive  and 
feel  our  obligation  to  do  the  right  and  to  avoid  the  wrong, 
—  it  does  not  of  itself  point  out  to  us  precisely  what  our 
duties  and  obligations  are,  —  precisely  what  is,  and  what  is 
not,  the  right  thing  —  the  thing  to  be  done.  This  we  are 
left  to  learn,  for  the  most  part,  in  other  ways.  Conscience 
is  not  itself,  strictly  speaking,  a  revelation .  Given,  the 
right,  or  the  supposed  right,  and  conscience  holds  us  to  it, 
presses  upon  11s  the  obligation,  approves  our  obedience, 
chastises  our  disobedience  wTith  its  scorpion  lash.  In  re¬ 
gard  to  the  question,  What  is  duty?  —  what,  to-day,  and 
for  me,  under  present  circumstances,  is  the  right  thing 
to  be  done?  —  it  has  no  special  revelation  to  make,  other 
than  to  form  a  judgment,  the  best  it  can,  in  view  of  all  the 


56 


THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 


circumstances  of  the  case,  aided  by  the  light  of  reason  and 
experience. 

Conscience,  psychologically  viewed,  is  in  fact  simply  the 
judgment,  or  reflective  faculty  of  the  mind,  exercised  upon 
moral  themes.  As  thus  employed,  it  has  no  advantage  of 
infallibility,  or  absolute  correctness,  more  than  as  employed 
on  other  matters.  Hence,  as  in  all  our  judgments,  so  in 
these,  we  are  liable  to  err,  we  do  err ;  we  mistake  the  path 
of  duty,  not  seldom,  even  where  we  seek  to  go  right. 
Now,  it  is  just  here  that  additional  light  is  needed — - 
some  clearer,  more  explicit  revelation  of  duty  and  the 
will  of  God.  Conscience  is  satisfied  if  only  we  do  what 
we  suppose  to  be  right ;  but  how  are  we  to  know  with  any 
certainty  what  is  right  ? 

A  Case  supposed.  —  I  can  conceive,  for  example,  an 
intelligent  and  right-minded  heathen,  convinced  of  his 
obligations  to  the  Supreme  Power,  and  disposed  to  yield 
that  homage  and  worship  which  are  due  from  the  creature 
to  the  Creator,  yet  at  a  loss  to  know  what  worship  would 
be  acceptable  to  Deity.  I  can  readily  suppose  him  to  be 
satisfied  of  the  guilt  incurred  by  a  life  of  sin,  and  of  the 
necessity  of  making  some  expiation  for  that  guilt,  but 
ignorant  of  the  way  in  which  the  anger  of  a  just  God 
against  the  evil-doer  may  be  appeased.  I  can  conceive 
him  interrogating  conscience  in  vain  to  know  what,  in 
these  circumstances,  he  is  to  do.  Conscience  has  nothing 
to  say,  except  to  accuse  him  of  violated  obligation,  and  of 
ever-accumulating  guilt.  What  shall  he  do?  Shall  he 
offer  the  most  costly  sacrifice?  —  shall  he  cast  his  child  into 
the  Ganges,  or  himself  into  the  flames  ?  The  man  needs 
some  other  instruction,  some  other  light  than  nature,  and 
reason,  or  his  own  moral  sense,  afford,  in  order  to  discover 
the  path  of  life. 

System  of  Nature  also  Insufficient.  —  As  respects  natural 


THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 


57 


religion,  or  the  constitution  and  nature  of  things  about  us, 
that,  too,  must  be  confessed,  in  some  respects,  an  insuffi¬ 
cient  guide,  of  itself  to  the  right  course  of  life;  and  such 
we  find  it  has  always  proved  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
It  has  never  fully  met  and  answered  the  wants  of  the 
human  mind.  Much  may  be  learned  from  it,  but  not  all 
that  man  wishes  to  know.  It  is  invaluable  and  yet  insuffi¬ 
cient.  It  teaches  only  by  experience  /  and  that  experience 
often  comes  too  late,  —  comes  when  the  evil  is  done,  and 
there  is  no  remedy,  —  as  in  the  case  of  the  youth  who 
squanders  in  idleness  and  profligacy  the  best  years  of  his 
life,  and  finds  out  too  late  the  loss  he  has  incurred.  That 
experience,  moreover,  is  drawn  wholly  from  the  present 
icorld ,  the  state  of  things  in  which  we  find  ourselves  here 
placed  ;  it  knows  nothing,  teaches  nothing,  with  respect  to 
the  future ,  except  by  inference;  it  gives  no  certain  knowl¬ 
edge  with  regard  to  anything  beyond  the  present  life,  or 
whether,  indeed,  there  is  anything  beyond.  I  may  infer , 
from  what  I  observe  of  the  connection  between  virtue  and 
happiness,  sin  and  misery,  in  the  present  life,  that  if  there 
be  a  future  state  of  existence,  the  same  law  will  hold  there ; 
but  I  cannot  know  this,  much  less  that  there  is  a  future 
existence.  Nor  can  I  learn,  from  anything  in  the  consti¬ 
tution  of  nature,  the  true  remedy ;  or  whether  there  is  any 
remedy  for  the  evils  of  sin,  any  escape  from  its  guilt. 
These  are  matters  which,  most  of  all,  I  wish  to  know^ ;  yet 
on  these  points  nature  is  silent. 

Now,  the  force  of  sinful  passion,  and  an  evil  nature  in 
man,  strengthened,  as  that  nature  and  those  passions  are, 
by  indulgence  and  habit,  must  ever  prove  too  strong  for 
the  restraints  of  such  a  system  as  this.  It  will  keep  no 
nation,  no  age,  effectually  in  check.  And  such  proves  to  be 
the  case.  Both  the  religious  and  the  ethical  svstems  of 

CD  J 

the  pagan  world  —  systems  which  flourished  in  the  palmiest 


58 


THE  RULE  OF  RIGHT. 


days  of  the  most  cultivated  and  refined  nations  of  an¬ 
tiquity —  show  conclusively  that  natural  religion  is  not 
enough.  Neither  in  the  one  nor  the  other  do  we  find 
clear  and  adequate  conceptions  of  the  Supreme  Being,  of 
the  future  state,  of  the  way  of  pardon  to  the  erring  and 
the  lost ;  neither  in  the  one  nor  the  other  do  we  find  any 
restraining  power,  effective  and  sufficient  to  keep  a  people 
or  an  age  from  the  grossest  corruptions  and  sins.  Under 
all  these  systems,  ethical  and  religious,  the  tendency  of 
the  nations  was  from  bad  to  worse. 

The  Deficiency  Remedied .  —  Something  other  and  better 
was  needed,  —  some  more  explicit  revelation  of  the  divine 
will  and  of  human  duty,  some  influence  more  powerful  to 
restrain  men  from  known  sin,  was  needed,  and  was  given. 
In  the  sacred  Scriptures  we  have  that  which  we  seek  in 
vain  among  the  philosophies  and  the  mythologies  of  the 
world,  —  that  knowledge  which  neither  natural  religion 
nor  the  unaided  reason  and  moral  sense  of  man  can  fur¬ 
nish.  It  is  not  the  province  of  Moral  Philosophy  to  unfold 
and  state  in  their  order  the  great  truths  made  known  in 
revelation,  much  less  to  present  the  arguments  by  which 
such  a  revelation  is  established.  It  is  the  business  of  The- 
ology  to  do  this.  It  is  sufficient  to  our  present  purpose  to 
say,  that  the  Bible  reveals  God  and  his  attributes  more 
perfectly  than  they  could  otherwise  be  known  to  man; 
that  it  fully  and  explicitly  and  positively  makes  known  his 
will,  that  law  which  is  to  us  the  true  rule  of  duty ;  that  it 
reveals  in  all  its  grandeur  and  power  the  doctrine  of  the 
future,  —  a  life  beyond  the  narrow  confines  of  the  present, 
in  which  men  shall  be  rewarded  or  punished,  according  to 
the  deeds  done  and  the  character  formed  in  the  present 
life  ;  above  all,  that  it  reveals  to  sinful  man  the  way  of 
escape  from  guilt  and  ruin,  through  Him  who  is  the  way, 
the  truth,  and  the  life. 


PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 


59 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 

Two  Questions .  —  In  further  discussing  the  science  of 
Hght,  two  questions  present  themselves.  1.  What  is  a 
moral  action  •  or,  in  other  words,  what  sort  of  actions  are 
properly  so  called  ?  2.  In  what  consists  the  morality  of 

any  given  act  ?  Where  lies  the  virtue  or  the  guilt  of  it  ? 
These  questions  comprise  a  topic  which  has  not  been  dis¬ 
cussed  in  the  preceding  chapters,  viz.,  the  province  of  right. 
We  will  take  them  in  their  order,  as  now  stated. 

0 

§  1.  —  What  is  a  Moral  Action? 

Not  all  Action  Moral .  —  What  class  of  actions  are  prop¬ 
erly  called  moral?  Not  all  human  actions.  .Some  actions 
have  no  moral  quality.  I  start  at  the  accidental  falling  of 
a  window,  or  discharge  of  a  musket.  A  person  uncon¬ 
sciously  talks  in  his  sleep,  or  in  delirium,  or,  it  may  be,  rises 
and  walks  about,  performs  certain  actions,  takes  the  prop¬ 
erty,  or  perhaps  the  life  of  another,  or  puts  an  end  to  his 
own  life.  These  are  not  properly  moral  actions.  They  are 
involuntary,  as  in  the  instances  first  mentioned,  —  or  irra¬ 
tional,  as  in  the  cases  last  specified,  —  and  in  neither  case 
do  we  attach  praise  or  blame  to  the  act.  It  has  no  moral 
quality. 

Morality  pertains  to  ichat.  —  Morality,  the  quality  of 
virtue  or  guilt,  of  praise  or  blame,  pertains  only  to  the  ac¬ 
tions  of  intelligent  and  rational  beings,  and  only  to  the 
voluntary  actions  of  such  beings.  By  action,  I  mean  to  in 


60 


PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 


elude,  of  course,  the  various  forms  of  mental  activity,  and 
not  merely  the  putting  forth  of  physical  power.  It  is  not 
merely  when  I  move  my  limbs,  raise  my  hand,  or  bring 
into  use  some  one  of  the  bodily  organs,  that  I  act ;  when  I 
think,  when  I  cherish  an  emotion,  affection,  or  desire; 
when  I  put  forth  a  volition,  even  though  the  external  act 
should  for  any  reason  not  follow  that  volition  —  in  all  these 
cases  I  act.  All  these  are  so  many  forms  of  mental  activ¬ 
ity  ;  and  when  we  speak  of  moral  action,  it  is  to  the  activity 
of  the  mind,  primarily  and  chiefly,  that  we  refer.  Ail  ex¬ 
ternal  bodily  act  is  moral  only  so  far  as  it  involves  and 
proceeds  from  some  activity  of  the  mind.  Otherwise  it 
has  no  more  morality,  no  more  desert  of  praise  or  blame, 
than  the  movement  of  an  axe,  or  hammer,  or  any  other 
mere  passive  instrument.  The  body  is  the  instrument  of 
the  mind. 

Implies  Intelligence .  —  A  moral  act  is  always  an  intelli¬ 
gent  act.  The  being  who  performs  it  must  be  capable  of 
comprehending  himself,  and  his  own  activity ;  must  know 
wThat  he  is  about ;  must  understand  the  bearing  of  what  he 
does;  must  act  with  reference  to  some  end,  and  having  in 
view  the  means  necessary  to  secure  that  end.  Mere  brute 
instinct  differs  from  this,  lacks  this ;  works  blindly ;  com¬ 
prehends  not  itself,  nor  what  it  does  ;  works  from  impulse, 
not  from  intelligence.  The  brute  is  incapable  of  moral 
action. 

m 

Implies  Reason .  —  A  moral  act  is  always  a  rational  act. 
A  mind  destitute  of  reason  may  still  act  intelligently,  may 
act  with  reference  to  a  given  end,  and  adopt  the  means  best 
fitted  to  secure  that  end.  The  insane  man  docs  this,  and 
often  displays  no  little  sagacity  and  wisdom  in  the  accom¬ 
plishment  of  his  purposes.  lie  knows  what  he  is  doing, 
and  why  he  takes  this  or  that  means  to  accomplish  his 
purpose.  He  acts  intelligently,  but  not  rationally.  His 


PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 


61 


mind  is  disordered  in  its  action.  And  so  far  as  this  is  the 
case,  he  is  not  responsible  for  his  actions.  They  are  not 
properly  moral  acts.  It  may  be,  and  often  is,  extremely 
difficult  to  decide  in  such  cases  whether,  and  in  what 
degree,  the  mind  really  is  insane,  and  therefore  irresponsi¬ 
ble  ;  under  cover  of  this  doubt  and  difficulty,  many  a  crime 
doubtless  goes  unpunished  ;  but  where  it  is  evident  that 
reason  no  longer  keeps  her  throne,  by  common  consent  the 
actions  of  such  a  mind  are  regarded  as  having  no  moral 
character. 

Implies  Volition.  —  A  moral  act  is  always,  I  suppose,  a 
voluntary  act.  If  any  act  is  strictly  involuntary,  not  pro¬ 
ceeding  from  any  choice  or  intention  of  the  doer,  mere 
accident,  or  mere  instinct,  or  muscular  reaction,  —  as  the 
springing  when  a  window  falls,  or  the  closing  of  the  eye 
when  a  blow  is  suddenly  aimed  at  it  —  actions  which  are 
not  only  without  intention  and  volition,  but  which  no  pur¬ 
pose  or  effort  of  will  could  wholly  prevent,  —  such  an  act* 
surely,  has  no  moral  character.  It  falls  not  within  the 
province  of  right.  That  only  is  a  moral  act  which  is  vol¬ 
untary,  freely  put  forth  of  choice  and  purpose  —  which  we 
could  have  refrained  from  doing,  had  we  chosen. 

On  the  same  principle,  so  far  as  our  thoughts  and  emo¬ 
tions  are  strictly  involuntary,  not  within  our  own  control, 
they  cannot  properly  be  classed  among  our  moral  acts.  It 
is  a  principle  of  the  plainest  justice,  that  a  man  is  to  be 
held  responsible  only  for  such  actions  as  lie  within  his 
power  to  do  or  not  to  do.  'No  law  can  place  me  under 
obligation  to  perform  an  act  which  it  is  wholly  out  of  my 
power  to  perform,  —  as,  e.  g .,  the  lifting  of  a  mountain  ;  nor 
yet  to  refrain  from  doing  what  I  cannot  possibly,  by  any 
effort  or  volition  of  mine,  avoid  doing.  To  such  acts  neither 
virtue  nor  guilt  attaches  —  neither  praise  nor  blame.  What¬ 
ever  mental  activity  is  of  this  sort,  strictly  involuntary  and 

6 


62 


PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 


beyond  our  control,  is  to  be  classed  in  the  same  category 
with  involuntary  muscular  movements  or  contractions. 

To  a  great  extent,  however,  both  thought  and  feeling  are 
moral  acts,  since  indirectly ,  if  not  directly ,  it  is  in  our  power 
to  shape  and  control  them.  I  cannot,  indeed,  by  a  direct 
act  of  will,  call  up  or  prevent  any  thought  or  feeling ;  but 
still  it  is  in  my  power  to  determine  the  general  course  and 
direction  of  both.  I  cannot,  perhaps,  avoid  certain  emo¬ 
tions,  in  view  of  certain  objects  presented  to  the  senses  or 
to  the  thoughts ;  but  I  can  avoid  the  perception  of  those 
objects ;  can  shut  the  eye  and  the  ear  upon  them  ;  can  fix 
the  thoughts  upon  other  things,  and  thus  avoid  the  emo¬ 
tions  which  they  are  fitted  to  awaken.  In  so  far  as  I  fail 
to  exert  this  control  over  my  own  mental  activity,  in  so 
far  I  am  responsible ;  in  so  far  the  act  is  of  a  moral  char¬ 
acter. 

Implies  a  Moral  Faculty .  —  If  I  mistake  not,  there  is 
still  another  element  involved  in  all  moral  action  —  viz.,  a 
capacity  for  j^erceiving  moral  distinctions,  a  power  of  dis¬ 
tinguishing  between  right  and  wrong.  This  we  may  call 
the  moral  faculty.  Where  this  is  entirely  wanting,  I  cannot 
conceive  of  praise  or  blame,  virtue  or  guilt,  as  properly  at¬ 
taching  to  the  conduct.  Such  a  being  is  certainly  not  a 
proper  object  of  law,  nor  of  reward  and  punishment.  This 
is  the  case  with  the.  brute,  and  it  is  the  crowning  difference 
between  the  brute  and  man.  The  former  has  no  conception 
of  right  or  wrong  in  conduct  —  no  idea  of  obligation  —  no 
feeling  of  self-approval,  nor  yet  of  regret,  and  remorse,  for 
anything  it  has  done.  The  brute  has  no  conscience,  and, 
for  that  reason,  is  not  a  moral  being.  If  the  human  mind 
is  ever  reduced  to  such  a  condition,  whether  in  the  state  of 
idiocy,  or  in  certain  forms  of  insanity,  as  no  longer  to  pos¬ 
sess  the  power  of  recognizing  and  feeling  moral  distinc- 


PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 


63 


tions,  its  acts,  in  such  a  case,  could  not  be  called  moral 
acts :  they  have  no  moral  character. 

§  II.  —  In  what  consists  the  Morality  of  any  given  Act  ? 

Question  stated . —  When  any  act  is  perceived  to  have 
a  moral  character,  whether  right  or  wrong,  the  question 
may  still  arise,  In  what  consists,  or  where  lies,  the  moral 
quality  —  the  virtue  or  the  guilt  —  of  that  act  ?  Wherein 
does  the  virtuous  act,  for  example,  differ  from  any  other? 

This  is  quite  a  distinct  question  from  the  one  discussed 
in  the  preceding  section,  and  deserves  special  considera¬ 
tion. 

Does  the  morality  pertain  to  the  external  act,  the  physi¬ 
cal  movement  which  performs  what  the  will  intends;  or 
does  it  lie  in  the  volition,  the  simple  act  of  will  which  im¬ 
mediately  precedes  the  external  act  ?  Or  is  it  in  the  reso¬ 
lution,  previously  formed,  to  put  forth  such  d  volition  when 
the  proper  time  shall  come?  Or  in  the  thought  of  the 
mind  which  lay  back  of  all  this,  and  which  led  to  the 
resolution,  and  so  to  the  deed?  Or,  if  not  in  any  of  these, 
then  is  it  to  be  found  in  the  intention,  or  design,  with 
which  the  act  is  performed  ? 

Not  in  the  External  Act.  —  Evidently  not  in  the  external, 
physical  act  does  the  morality  lie.  That,  in  itself  consid¬ 
ered,  has  no  moral  character.  The  bodily  organism  is 
merely  the  instrument  of  the  intelligence,  which  animates 
and  controls  its  movements ;  and  those  movements,  in 
themselves,  have  no  more  moral  character  than  the  move¬ 
ments  of  a  saw,  or  any  other  merely  passive  instrument. 
Accordingly,  the  same  external  act,  as  performed  by  dif¬ 
ferent  actors  and  under  different  circumstances,  may  vary 
exceedingly  in  its  moral  character;  and  that  variation 


64 


PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 


may  run  through  the  whole  scale  of  morality,  from  the 
deepest  degree  of  guilt  to  the  highest  degree  of  virtue. 

Let  us  suppose  a  case  —  the  taking  of  human  life,  for 
example.  It  is  done  in  malice,  or  for  gain.  That  is  mur¬ 
der.  It  is  done  by  the  executioner,  in  obedience  to  law. 
That  is  a  simple  act  of  justice.  It  is  done  to  save  life. 
That  is  self-defence.  It  is  done  by  accident,  without  de¬ 
sign.  That  is  no  crime.  Yet  in  all  these  cases  the  exter¬ 
nal  act  may  be  the  same,  the  instrument  the  same,  the 
effect  produced  the  same. 

Evidently  the  moral  quality  lies  not  in  the  external  act. 

Not  in  the  Executive  Volition. —  Nor  yet  does  the  morality 
pertain  to  those  mental  states  which  immediately  precede, 
and  give  rise  to,  the  external  act ;  since  these  are,  neces¬ 
sarily,  the  same,  whatever  the  moral  character  of  the  act. 
The  volition  which  immediately  precedes  and  produces  the 
movement  of  the  arm  by  which  a  blow  is  struck,  is  one  and 
the  same  thing,  whether  that  blow  results  in  murder,  or 
in  the  execution  of  justice,  or  in  accidental  homicide,  or  in 
self-defence.  In  any  case,  it  is  simply  a  volition  to  strike 
a  blow  by  the  movement  of  the  arm.  And  so,  also,  of  the 
resolution  which  precedes  the  direct  volition,  or  effort  of 
the  will.  Whatever  imparts  moral  character  to  the  act, 
taken  as  a  whole,  imparts  it  also  to  these  constituent  ele¬ 
ments  of  the  act ;  but  in  themselves,  neither  the  external 
movement,  nor  the  direct  volition  to  move,  nor  the  resolu¬ 
tion  or  purpose  to  put  forth  such  a  volition,  have  any  dis¬ 
tinctive  moral  character.  There  is  something  else  always 
to  be  taken  into  the  account  before  we  can  determine  the 
moral  character  of  any  of  those  elements  which  are  in¬ 
volved  in  a  moral  act. 

Consists  in  the  Intention.  —  That  which  gives  character 
to  the  act,  and  which  alone  determines  its  moral  quality, 
is  the  intention  or  design  with  which  the  act  is  performed. 


PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 


65 


In  the  case  supposed,  it  was  the  intention  of  one  man  to 
commit  murder;  he  struck  the  blow  for  that  purpose, 
with  that  design ;  and  this  intention  constitutes  his  guilt. 
Hence  he  would  have  been  really  guilty  of  murder,  in 
the  sisdit  of  Him  who  knows  the  secrets  of  the  heart, 
even  had  the  blow  failed  to  accomplish  its  purpose.  The 
intention,  the  design  was  —  murder.  The  intention  of 
another  man  was  the  simple  discharge  of  his  duty  as  an 
officer  of  justice  —  a  right  intention,  and  so  a  right  act. 
The  design  of  another  was  to  defend  himself,  or  others, 
from  lawless  violence ;  and  if  we  are  satisfied  that  this 
was  really  his  purpose,  and  that  the  act  was  necessary 
to  that  end,  or  even  that  he  believed  it  to  be  so,  we  justify 
him  at  once  from  the  imputation  of  crime.  Still  another 
man  intended  by  the  blow  merely  a  certain  mechanical 
effect ;  but  the  instrument  which  he  wielded  for  that 
purpose,  glancing  from  its  intended  course,  struck  down  a 
bystander.  The  result  was  accidental.  He  who  struck 
the  fatal  blow  had  no  such  design,  and  this  being  once 
ascertained,  there  is  no  longer  the  charge  of  guilt. 

We  act  upon  this  Hide.  —  In  estimating  the  character  of 
actions,  we  always  proceed  upon  this  principle.  We  look 
at  the  intention ,  the  design  of  the  doer ;  we  seek  to  know 
what  the  person  meant /  and  if  we  are  satisfied  that  no 
wrong  was  intended,  we  exculpate  him  from  blame ;  other¬ 
wise  we  hold  him  guilty.  It  is  not  so  much  the  actual  re¬ 
sult  as  the  intention  that  we  look  at.  So,  in  respect  to 
our  own  conduct,  it  is  not  so  much  wdiat  was  actually 
accomplished,  for  good  or  ill,  as  what  was  designed  and 
attempted,  that  forms  the  standard  by  which  we  estimate 
our  own  guilt  or  innocence  —  our  good  or  ill  desert..  The 
good  man,  sacrificing  and  toiling  much  for  some  worthy 
end,  but  all  to  little  purpose,  consoles  himself  by  the 

reflection  that  his  actions  are  to  be  weighed,  not  by  their 

6# 


66 


PROVINCE  OF  RIGHT. 


success,  but  tlieir  design  ;  that  he  deserves  well  who  meant 
and  endeavored  well. 

Where  we  are  satisfied,  on  the  other  hand,  that  an  act, 
however  desirable  in  itself,  is  prompted  by  no  good  inten¬ 
tion,  we  hesitate  to  assign  it  the  rank  of  a  virtue.  A  ruler 
requires  the  loyalty,  love,  and  obedience  of  his  subjects. 
That  obedience  they  may  render,  however,  not  from  loyalty 
or  love,  but  from  fear,  or  the  desire  of  gain.  With  such 
obedience  he  is  not  satisfied.  It  is  an  obedience  rendered, 
not  for  the  sake  of  honoring  or  serving  the  ruler,  but  with 
a  purely  selfish  design.  There  is  no  virtue  in  such  obedi¬ 
ence.  The  case  is  the  same  with  respect  to  the  parent  and 
his  children,  and  with  respect  to  man  in  his  relations  to  the 
Supreme  Ruler.  God  looks  at  the  heart,  scans  the  purposes 
of  man ;  and  as  is  the  meaning  and  intention  of  the  man, 
so,  in  his  sight,  is  the  man  himself. 

Virtue  what .  —  On  the  principle  now  established,  we 
may  define  morality  or  virtue  to  be  the  doing  right ,  inten¬ 
tionally ,  and  because  it  is  right .  That  alone  is  strictly  a 
virtuous  act  which  is  done  voluntarily  —  done  as  right,  and 
because  it  is  believed  to  be  right;  in  other  words,  which 
is  done  from  a  sense  of  duty.  Whatever  neglects,  over¬ 
looks,  or  violates  this  rule,  whatever  other  character  it  may 
possess,  is  not  of  the  nature  of  true  virtue.  “That  is  a 
virtuous  action,”  says  Chalmers,  “which  a  man  voluntarily 
does  on  the  simple  ground  that  he  ought  to  do  it.” 


FACULTIES  OF  THE  MIND. 


67 


CHAPTER  V. 

FACULTIES  OF  THE  MIND  COGNIZANT  OF  RIGHT. 

To  explain  in  detail  the  operations  of  the  several  mental 
faculties,  is  the  province  of  Psychology.  To  this  it  per¬ 
tains  to  treat  explicitly  of  the  moral  faculty,  the  power  of 
the  mind  by  which  it  perceives  and  recognizes  moral  truths 
and  also  of  the  emotions  awakened  in  view  of  such  truth. 
So  intimately,  however,  are  these  themes  related  to  the 
Philosophy  of  Morals,  that  it  seems  necessary  to  consider 
them  briefly  in  this  connection.  For  a  more  full  discussion 
of  the  nature  and  power  of  Conscience,  the  reader  is  re¬ 
ferred  to  the  sections  which  treat  of  these  topics  in  my 
work  on  Mental  Philosophy. 

Analysis  of  Conscience .  —  When  any  moral  act  —  our 
own,  or  that  of  another  —  is  presented  to  our  thoughts  as 
an  object  of  distinct  consideration,  the  process  through 
which  the  mind  passes  is  somewhat  peculiar,  and  will  be 
found,  if  I  mistake  not,  to  comprise  several  distinct  steps 
or  elements,  essentially  the  same  in  all  cases.  There  is,  in 
the  first  place,  an  impression,  or  perception,  more  or  less 
clear  and  decided,  that  the  act  in  view  is  a  right  or  a 
wrong  act  —  whichever  it  may  be  —  a  recognition  of  it  as 
such.  This  is  an  exercise  of  judgment,  an  intellectual 
operation.  The  proposition,  or  affirmation  of  the  mind, 
in  view  of  the  case,  is  “ That  is  right”  or  “ That  is  not 
right”  This  decision  is  more  or  less  clear  and  positive, 
in  proportion  as  the  act  contemplated  is  more  or  less 
strongly  marked  in  its  features  and  general  character.  In 


68 


FACULTIES  OF  THE  MIND 


some  cases  we  hesitate,  and  form  a  doubtful  opinion ;  in 
others,  the  decision  is  instantaneous  and  positive. 

No  sooner  is  this  decision  readied,  than  there  follows 
another  mental  state,  —  the  conviction  or  perception  of 
obligation  in  respect  to  the  act  contemplated.  The  prop¬ 
osition  now  is,  “  I  ought”  or  “ I  ought  not .”  This,  too,  is 
an  intellectual  process,  a  conviction,  a  judgment;  not  un¬ 
accompanied,  however,  with  feeling,  which  is  the  case 
indeed  with  most  of  our  intellectual  operations.  That 
which  awakens  intellectual  activity,  awakens  also  some 
degree  of  feeling.  Hence,  we  speak  of  feeling  the  truth 
of  a  proposition,  or  the  force  of  an  argument ;  of  feeling 
our  obligation  to  do  this  and  that.  A  careful  analysis, 
however,  will  show  that  the  feeling,  in  this  case,  is  distinct 
from  the  intellectual  perception  ;  that  it  succeeds,  and  is 
based  upon  such  perception,  and  derives  from  it  whatever 
character  and  strength  it  possesses. 

This  idea  of  obligation,  it  may  be  further  observed,  re¬ 
lates  to  the  past,  as  well  as  to  the  future.  I  ought  to  have 
done,  or  I  ought  not  to  have  done,  this  or  that,  —  an  act, 
the  scene  of  which  lies  among  the  years  that  are  long  past, 
and  in  lands,  it  may  be,  remote.  It  extends  also  to  the 
actions  of  others.  We  form  our  opinions,  and  pass  our 
judgment,  on  the  character  and  conduct  of  those  about 
whom  we  read  or  hear.  These  persons  ought,  or  ought 
not,  to  have  done  thus  and  thus. 

Further  Analysis.  —  When  the  obligation  to  a  given 
course  is  perceived,  there  follows  yet  another  state  of  mind, 
—  the  approbation  or  disapproval  of  the  conduct,  accord¬ 
ing  as  it  conforms  to,  or  violates  that  obligation.  This 
approving  or  condemning  verdict  is  also  an  act  of  con¬ 
science,  or  the  moral  faculty  —  one  of  its  specific  and  appro¬ 
priate  functions.  Like  the  preceding,  it  is  strictly,  in  the 
first  instance,  an  intellectual  act,  an  exercise  of  judgment, 


COGNIZANT  OF  RIGHT. 


69 


a  verdict  given  in  view  of  the  case  as  presented  to  the 
understanding ;  followed,  however,  immediately,  in  many 
cases,  with  the  strongest  emotion.  It  is  a  verdict  on  which 
depends  much  —  often,  everything  that  is  of  value  in  life. 
Herein  lies  the  power  of  an  approving  or  accusing  con¬ 
science.  The  proposition  now  stands,  “I  have  done  well” 

—  “I  have  done  ill;”  and  in  that  simple  verdict,  calmly 
rendered,  but  seldom  reversed,  lies  a  sustaining  or  con¬ 
demning  power,  greater  than  that  of  thrones  and  armies 

—  a  power  that  can  look  danger  and  death  in  the  face,  and 
defy  a  world  in  arms  —  a  power  that  can  make  the  guilty 
man  tremble,  though  surrounded  by  all  that  wealth,  and 
station,  and  princely  dignity  can  confer. 

Summary.  —  These  several  momenta  comprise  the  es¬ 
sential  elements  of  what  is  usually  termed  conscience,  or 
the  moral  faculty.  As  thus  analyzed,  conscience  is  simply 
the  intellect  perceiving  and  judging  of  moral  truth,  to¬ 
gether  with  a  corresponding  excitement  of  the  sensibili¬ 
ties,  in  view  of  the  objects  . thus  contemplated.  The  term 
is  used,  however,  to  denote  not  merely,  or  so  much,  the 
act  itself,  the  process  of  mind  now  analyzed,  as  the  power 
of  thus  perceiving  and  judging.  Nor  is  it  a  power,  a  capa¬ 
bility  merely,  which  can  be  exercised  or  withheld  at  the 
pleasure  of  the  possessor.  It  is  more  than  that  —  a  constitu¬ 
tion  of  the  mind  in  virtue  of  which  it  shall,  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  perceive,  and  feel,  and  act  thus  —  shall  rec¬ 
ognize  such  distinctions  and  obligations,  and  shall,  in  view 
of  the  same,  pronounce  such  verdicts. 

Psychologically  viewed,  it  is  not  so  much  a  distinct  fac¬ 
ulty  of  the  mind,  coordinate  with  perception,  memory,  imag¬ 
ination,  etc.,  as  a  distinct  exercise,  or  department  of  action, 
of  the  general  faculty  of  judgment,  and  of  the  power  of 
feeling,  as  employed  with  reference  to  one  particular  class 


70 


FACULTIES  OF  THE  MIND. 


of  truth,  viz.,  moral.  The  mind  is  so  constituted,  that  in 
view  of  such  truth,  it  shall  act  as  now  stated,  recognizing 
the  right  and  the  wrong  of  human  conduct,  measuring  its 
actions  and  those  of  others  by  this  standard,  and  approv¬ 
ing  or  condemning  accordingly.  This  power  we  call  the 
moral  faculty. 

Authority  of  Conscience. — With  regard  to  the  author¬ 
ity  of  this  faculty,  it  is  evident  that,  with  the  view  now 
given  of  the  nature  of  conscience,  it  is  impossible  to  con¬ 
sider  it  as  in  any  sense  an  infallible  guide.  It  is  a  moral 
judgment,  accompanied  by  a  moral  feeling,  and,  like  all 
other  judgments  and  feelings,  is  liable  to  err.  It  is,  in  this 
respect,  on  the  same  footing  with  all  the  other  powers  of 
the  human  mind.  Not  one  of  them  is  infallible.  A  man 
may  act  conscientiously,  and  still  be  in  the  wrong.  His 
judgments  are  not  sure  to  be  right.  At  the  best,  he  is 
liable  to  err ;  and  the  fact  that  he  goes  according  to  the 
dictates  of  his  conscience,  does  not  free  him  from  this  lia¬ 
bility.  He  must,  indeed,  abide  by  the  decisions  of  con¬ 
science,  and  govern  his  conduct  accordingly;  but  he  must 
see  to  it  that  those  decisions  are  intelligently  formed.  He 
must  bow  to  the  authority  of  conscience ;  but  he  must  also 
take  heed  that  his  conscience  is  not  a  blind  guide,  but  one 
on  whose  eye  and  on  whose  path  falls  the  clear  light  of 
nature  and  of  reason,  and  the  still  purer  light  of  God’s 
word. 


NATURE  AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


71 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HISTORIC  SKETCH  OF  OPINIONS  RESPECTING  THE  NATUR1 

AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 

It  is  often  of  the  highest  service,  in  our  investigation  of 

4 

truth,  to  know  the  opinions  which  have  been  held  by  oth 
ers,  and  the  results  at  which  other  minds  have  arrived,  a» 
regards  the  matters  in  question.  Especially  is  this  the 
case  with  regard  to  the  questions  which  have  occupied  us 
in  the  preceding  chapters.  A  brief  outline  of  the  various 
opinions  which  have  been  held  by  writers  of  different 
periods,  both  ancient  and  modern,  as  to  the  nature  and 
foundation  of  right,  may  give  us  a  clearer  view  of  the 
matter  discussed,  and  serve  to  fix  in  our  minds  the  prin¬ 
ciples  advanced  in  the  preceding  chapters.  We  begin 
with  the  philosophy  of  the  ancients. 

Doctrine  of  Socrates .  —  Socrates  may  be  regarded  as 
the  first  of  the  ancient  philosophers  who  gave  special 
attention  to  the  nature  of  virtue.  His  teachings  lay  the 
foundation  of  scientific  ethics;  but  only  the  foundation. 
His  doctrine  of  right  is  a  peculiar  one.  Virtue  is  nearly 
synonymous  with  knowledge ,  in  the  Socratic  system.  The 
doing ,  is  consequent  uj>on  the  knowing ,  of  what  is  good, 
and  best  to  be  done.  Nothing  is  virtuous  in  conduct, 
which  is  done  without  discernment.  Hence,  no  man  is 
voluntarily  vicious.  He  does  as  well  as  he  knows. 

As  to  the  question  what  things  are  right,  and  what  are 
wrong,  the  teachings  of  Socrates  do  not  furnish  an  explicit 
answer.  He  refers  us  to  the  laws  of  the  land  in  which  we 
may  happen  to  live,  for  the  establishment  of  specific  ethi- 


72 


HISTORIC  SKETCH. 


cal  rules ;  and  while  he  does  not  expressly  teach  that  the 
foundation  and  ground  of  right  is  its  utility ,  still  he  has 
much  to  say  of  the  utility  of  virtue. 

Disciples  of  Socrates.  —  1.  The  Cyxics.  —  Virtue,  ac¬ 
cording  to  the  Cynics,  consists  in  a  life  according  to  nature; 
a  complete  independence  of  all  arbitrary  and  conventional 
laws  and  usages ;  the  absence  of,  and  entire  freedom  from 
all  wants  and  all  desires  /  complete  superiority  to  all  these 
things.  To  such  an  extent  did  they  carry  this  doctrine, 
as  to  render  both  themselves  and  their  philosophy  objects 
of  general  aversion  and  contempt. 

2.  The  Cyrenaics. —  With  the  Cyrenaics,  on  the  con¬ 
trary,  pleasure  is  the  chief  good,  and  virtue  is  to  be  com¬ 
mended  and  pursued,  as  conducing  to  this  result — the 
means  to  this  end.  Socrates  had  given  prominence  in  his 
teachings  to  the  happiness  which  virtue  affords.  Aristip¬ 
pus,  looking  solely,  at  this,  makes  happiness  the  chief  end 
of  man,  and  recommends  moderation,  self-control,  self-cul¬ 
ture,  as  the  most  direct  means  to  the  attainment  of  this 
end. 

Doctrine  of  Plato,  —  Plato  holds  fast  the  Socratic  no¬ 
tion  of  virtue  as  science  —  a  thing  to  be  learned.  In 
respect  to  the  highest  good,  he  takes  a  middle  ground, 
between  the  conflicting  schools  just  mentioned  —  neither 
admitting,  with  the  Cyrenaics,  that  pleasure  is  the  chief 
good  of  life,  nor,  with  the  Cynics,  rejecting  it  entirely,  as 
unworthy  of  regard. 

The  idea  of  the  good  and  the  evil,  according  to  Plato, 
is  not  derived  immediately  from  sense,  as  are  our  percep¬ 
tions  of  external  objects,  but  constitutes,  along  with  kin¬ 
dred  ideas,  as  of  the  beautiful,  etc.,  a  distinct  and  peculiar 
province  of  knowledge,  an  a  priori  faculty  of  the  mind.  As 
back  of  the  senses,  and  their  perceptions,  there  lies  a 
power  that  can  compare  and  contrast  these  perceptions 


NATURE  AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


73 


one  with  another,  —  a  power  of  the  soul  superior  to  sense, 
and  independent  of  it,  —  so,  in  like  manner,  the  soul,  by 
its  own  inherent  activity,  conceives  and  distinguishes  the 
beautiful  and  the  odious,  the  good  and  the  evil.  This  fac¬ 
ulty  is  what,  in  the  different  schools  of  modern  philosophy, 
passes  under  the  name  of  original,  or  intuitive  conception, 
original  suggestion,  the  reason,  etc. 

In  one  point,  the  ethical  philosophy  of  Plato  seems  to  us 
defective.  The  conception  of  duty —  the  right ,  as  such,  in 
distinction  from  the  merely  good  —  is  nowhere  distinctly 
and  prominently  brought  out,  but  lies  quite  in  the  back¬ 
ground.  This  is  a  defect,  however,  which  pertains  equally 
to  the  Socratic  ethics. 

Doctrine  of  Aristotle .  —  The  great  mistake  which,  from 
Socrates  onward,  has  prevailed  respecting  the  nature  of 
virtue,  that  it  is  one  and  the  same  with  knowledge,  is,  in 
the  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  for  the  first  time,  distinctly  set 
rmht.  Virtue  is  with  him  not  so  much  an  intellectual  ele- 

O 

ment  and  process,  as  a  moral  one ;  it  is  not  a  knowing,  but 
a  doing.  The  doing,  according  to  Socrates  and  Plato,  is 
consequent  upon  the  knowing;  if  a  man  knows  the  good  he 
will  do  it.  With  Aristotle,  on  the  contrary,  the  knowing  is 
consequent  upon  the  doing ;  the  more  a  man  does,  and 
seeks  to  do  the  right,  the  better  he  will  know  the  right. 
To  make  virtue  a  merely  intellectual  affair,  overlooks, 
according  to  Aristotle,  an  essential  element  of  our  nature, 
—  i.  e .,  the  moral  element,  the  natural  instinct  of  the  soul, 
which  demands  and  strives  for  the  good,  and  which  ap¬ 
proves  and  is  satisfied  with  that  only  which  is  right  in 
human  conduct  and  endeavor.  Virtue  is  not  so  much,  then, 
a  thing  to  be  learned,  as  a  thing  to  be  done  or  practised, 
in  the  following  out  this  natural  craving  and  instinct  of 
the  soul.  It  is  by  the  practice  of  virtue  that  we  become 
virtuous.  Virtue  is  the  habit  of  doing  right.  Nature  lays 

7 


74 


HISTORIC  SKETCH. 


the  foundation  in  so  constituting  the  mind  that  it  craves 
and  approves  the  good  ;  reason  and  intelligence  build  on 
this  foundation  ;  habit  confirms  and  binds  together  the 
whole.  Our  good  and  evil  dispositions  are  originally  in 
our  own  power;  but  when  once  formed,  by  habit,  to  virtue 
or  to  vice,  they  are  no  longer  under  control. 

The  highest  good,  the  chief  end  and  motive  of  human 
endeavor,  Aristotle  concedes  to  be  happiness  in  some  form. 
But,  then,  what  is  happiness  ?  Not  the  gratification  of  the 
senses,  surely ;  for,  in  this  respect,  man  is  in  no  way  supe¬ 
rior  to  the  brute.  The  true  happiness  for  man  is  the  highest 
activity  of  his  intelligent  nature,  the  unrestrained  energy 
of  well-being  and  of  well-doing,  which  satisfies  all  the 
conditions  of  his  mental  and  moral  nature.  It  is  the 
perfect  activity  of  a  perfect  life. 

In  practical  matters,  virtue  lies  in  pursuing  the  right 
mean  between  opposite  extremes.  Thus  justice  is  the 
moral  mean  between  doing  wrong  and  suffering  wrong. 

O  O  O  O 

This  mean  varies  with  circumstances  and  individuals. 

/ 

Doctrine  of  the  Stoics.  —  The  Stoics  make  much  account 
of  law  and  order  in  the  universe.  Everything  must  con¬ 
form  to  the  order  of  nature.  The  highest  law  of  human 
action,  the  highest  end  of  life,  is  to  shape  our  conduct 
according  to  the  universal  law  of  nature,  and  live  in  har¬ 
mony  therewith.  Live  according  to  thy  rational  nature,  is 
the  practical  maxim,  or  rule  of  life,  of  the  Stoics. 

But  pleasure  is  not  a  good- — has  no  moral  worth  —  is  to 
be  disregarded  and  despised.  It  is  no  end  of  nature,  but 
something  accidental.  It  is  not  an  activity,  but  a  passive 
state  of  the  soul,  a  limitation  of  that  activity  which  alone 
the  true  blessedness.  External  good  of  every  kind  is 
morally  indifferent ;  virtue  alone  is  real  good.  Actions,  of 
course,  are  to  be  regarded  as  good  or  evil,  not  according 
as  they  result  in  advantage  or  disadvantage  to  the  doer, 


NATURE  AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


75 


not  according  to  their  tendencies  and  consequences,  but  in 
themselves.  A  certain  course  of  conduct  is  to  be  approved 
and  pursued,  not  because  it  conduces  to  health  and  happi¬ 
ness,  but  for  its  own  sake.  Health,  wealth,  happiness,  are 
indifferent  and  worthless  —  to  be  preferred,  perhaps,  to 
sickness,  poverty,  and  the  like,  but  not  to  be  considered  as 
good  in  themselves. 

The  good  man  is  he  who  governs  himself  according  to 
reason  ;  the  bad  man  is  he  in  whom  reason  is  not  awakened, 
but  instinct  has  the  mastery.  And,  inasmuch  as  every  man 
is  under  the  dominion  of  one  or  the  other,  the  good  man  is 
wholly  good,  and  the  bad  man  wholly  bad.  Nor  are  there 
any  degrees  of  virtue,  —  all  good  acts  are  equally  good,  and 
all  bad  acts  equally  bad. 

The  system  of  the  Stoics  was,  it  must  be  confessed, 
rigorous  and  severe.  As  compared  with  the  ethical  phi¬ 
losophy  of  Aristotle,  it  strikes  one  as  ideal,  and  impracti¬ 
cable. 

Doctrine  of  the  Epicureans.  —  Quite  the  reverse  of  this 
was  the  ethical  system  of  the  Epicurean  school.  In  com¬ 
mon  with  most  of  the  preceding  schools,  they  make  the 
highest  good  consist  in  happiness  ;  but  then,  the  chief  ele¬ 
ment  of  happiness  is  pleasure ,  —  so  that  this  may  be  re¬ 
garded  as  the  highest  good.  By  pleasure,  however,  they 
do  not  mean  merely  the  gratification  of  the  present  mo¬ 
ment,  but  that  which  will  ensure  the  happiness  of  the 
whole  life.  Even  pain,  if  it  will  lead  to  a  greater  pleasure, 
is  to  be  welcomed.  The  pleasures  of  the  soul,  accordingly, 
are  of  greater  account  than  those  of  the  body  merely,  since 
the  former  are  lasting,  and  the  latter  momentary.  And, 
what  is  more,  pleasure  is  inseparable  from  a  virtuous  life. 
There  can  be  no  true  and  lasting  happiness  without  vir¬ 
tue.  As  thus  defined,  the  system  of  the  Epicureans  is 
equally  removed  from  that  of  the  Cyrenaics  on  the  one 


76 


HISTORIC  SKETCH. 


hand,  who  regard  pleasure  as  the  chief  good,  but  mean 
thereby  chiefly  the  pleasures  of  sense,  and  from  that  of  the 
Cynics  and  the  Stoics  on  the  other,  who  regard  all  pleasure 
as  a  thing  to  be  despised. 

Ethical  Philosophy  of  the  Moderns .  —  Thus  far  our 
attention  has  been  directed  to  the  ethical  doctrines  of  the 
ancients.  Turning  now  to  more  recent  times,  we  shall  find 
the  same  great  questions  arising  for  discussion,  which  we 
have  found  agitating  and  dividing  the  ancient  schools,  — 
6.  g.,  the  nature  of  virtue,  and  the  ground  of  right  — 
whether  right  and  wrong  are  independent  principles,  or 
whether  they  are  to  be  estimated  according  to  the  results, 
the  advantages  and  disadvantages  to  which  they  lead.  In 
tracing  these  doctrines,  I  can  refer  only  to  the  views  of  the 
more  prominent  authors  and  schools  of  philosophy. 

Early  English  Moralists .  —  Since  the  prevalence  of 
Christianity,  and  the  purer  views  of  morality  which  it 
could  not  fail  to  introduce,  the  idea  of  right  as  an  inde¬ 
pendent  principle  of  action  —  the  idea  of  duty,  in  distinction 
from  the  merely  good  —  has  been  brought  more  prominently 
to  view  in  the  systems  of  morality.  The  same  is  true,  also, 
of  the  principle  of  conscience .  The  nature  and  authority 
of  conscience  have  been  much  in  dispute;  but  by  gen¬ 
eral  agreement  it  has  been  regarded  as  the  foundation  of 
moral  science.  A  great  part,  in  fact,  of  the  ethics  of  the 
seventeenth  century  consists  of  the  discussion  of  cases  of 
conscience.  The  Reformation,  doubtless,  led  the  way  to 
this,  by  teaching  that  the  conscience  cannot  be  safely 
entrusted  to  the  keeping  of  the  church  and  the  clergy,  or 
subject  to  any  human  authority;  but  that  every  man  is 
individually  responsible  for  his  own  belief,  and  his  own 
actions.  As  early  as  the  twelfth  century,  indeed,  we  find 
Abelard  teaching  that  the  fundamental  rule  of  duty  is  the 
divine  will,  as  revealed  in  conscience  and  in  Scripture. 


NATURE  AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


77 


The  early  English  moralists  take  essentially  the  same 
ground.  Jeremy  Taylor ,  in  his  llule  of  Conscience ,  makes 
the  authority  of  conscience  the  basis  of  his  system  of 
morals,  and  quotes  with  approbation  the  saying  of  St.  Ber¬ 
nard  :  “  Conscience  is  the  brightness  of  the  eternal  light, 
the  spotless  mirror  of  the  divine  majesty,  and  the  image  of 
the  goodness  of  God.”  The  doctrine  of  Taylor  is,  that  as 
God  is  present,  governing  the  world  by  his  providence,  so 
he  is  present  in  our  hearts  by  his  laws,  governing  us  by 
conscience,  which  is  his  substitute,  or  representative.  This 
gives  to  conscience  not  merely  a  place  as  the  foundation 
of  morals,  but  clothes  it,  in  a  sense,  with  a  divine  com¬ 
mission  and  authority.  This  view  of  conscience  as,  con¬ 
jointly  with  Scripture,  the  ground  and  acknowledged  basis 
of  morality,  seems  to  have  been  very  generally  enter¬ 
tained  by  the  leading  minds  of  the  seventeenth  century  in 
England. 

Theory  of  Hobbes.  —  This  view  was  not  without  antag¬ 
onism.  A  powerful  opponent  arose,  at  once  subtle  and 
bold,  in  the  person  of  Thomas  Hobbes,  the  philosopher  of 
Malmesbury,  who  held  that  Law,  or  the  State,  is  the  origin 
of  all  rights  and  duties.  In  the  state  of  nature,  every  man 
is  at  war  with  every  man,  and  in  such  a  state  there  are  no 
rights  or  duties,  —  “The  notions  of  Right  and  Wrong, 
Justice  and  Injustice,  have  there  no  place.”  From  this 
state  of  nature  man  emerges  into  society,  and  the  civil 
body,  or  the  State,  is,  as  a  matter  of  self-defence,  con¬ 
structed.  This  it  is  which  gives  law,  —  and  thus  arises 
duty  and  the  nature  of  right.  The  doctrine  “  that  every 
private  man  is  judge  of  good  and  evil  actions ,”  he  pro¬ 
nounces  a  poisonous  and  seditious  doctrine,  dangerous  to 
the  State;  “whereas  it  is  manifest  that  the  measure  of  good 
and  evil  actions  is  the  Civil  LawT  To  him  who  lives  in 
civil  society  “  the  Law  is  the  public  Conscience  by  which 

7* 


78 


HISTORIC  SKETCH. 


he  hath  already  undertaken  to  be  guided.”  This  anni¬ 
hilates  at  a  blow  man’s  moral  nature,  and  resolves  morality 
and  duty  into  the  power  of  the  civil  arm.  Might  makes 
right. 

These  principles  were  received  with  very  little  favor, 
and  called  forth  many  replies.  As  Whewell  very  justly 
remarks,  however,  these  tenets,  so  startling  and  offensive, 
were  very  far  from  being  new.  “  The  whole  of  this  con¬ 
troversy  had  agitated  the  schools  of  philosophy  many  ages 
earlier.”  It  was  in  substance  the  same  question  which 
comes  up  for  discussion  so  frequently  in  the  dialogues  of 
Plato  and  of  Cicero,  whether  right  and  wrong  are  inde¬ 
pendent  qualities  of  actions,  or  whether  they  are  merely 
terms  to  denote  the  advantages  or  disadvantages  that 
result  from  certain  courses  of  behavior.  This  question,  dis¬ 
cussed,  as  we  have  seen,  by  Cynic  and  Cyrenaic,  by  Stoic 
and  Epicurean,  runs  through  the  whole  history  of  morals. 

Cuclworth.  —  One  of  the  principal  opponents  of  this 
scheme  of  Hobbes  was  Ralph  Cudworth,  who,  in  his  Trea¬ 
tise  concerning  Eternal  and  Immutable  Morality ,  takes 
the  ground  that  our  perception  of  right  and  wrong  is 
an  ultimate  ftict  in  our  nature,  that  these  ideas  are  simple 
and  incapable  of  analysis,  and  that  the  mind  is  able  to 
form  them  antecedently  to  positive  institutions.  He  shows 
that  the  doctrines  of  Hobbes  were  but  the  revived  dogmas 
and  sophistries  of  earlier  schools  —  essentially  the  very 
dogmas  against  which  Plato  argued  in  condemning  the 
doctrine  of  Protagoras,  that  all  our  knowledge  is  derived 
from  sense.  With  Plato,  he  maintains  that  some  of  our 
ideas  proceed  not  from  sensible  objects,  but  from  the  mind’s 
own  activity;  among  these  the  idea  of  right  and  wrong; 
and  that  these  ideas,  though  existing  only  in  the  mind,  are 
not  creations  of  the  mind,  but  realities  eternal  and  immu¬ 
table. 


NATURE  AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT.  79 

Doctrine  of  Locke.  —  The  doctrines  of  Locke  have 
been  the  occasion  of  much  dispute.  It  is  by  no  means 
easy  to  assign  to  this  distinguished  man  his  true  position 
in  philosophy  and  morals.  It  seems  clear,  however,  that 
whatever  may  have  been  his  own  personal  views  and  feel¬ 
ings,  the  tendency  of  his  philosophy  was  quite  in  the 
opposite  direction  to  the  system  of  Cudworth  and  the  in¬ 
dependent  moralists.  Deriving  all  our  simple  ideas  from 
sensation  and  reflection,  or  the  observation  of  things  with¬ 
out,  and  of  our  own  mental  operations,  he  seems  to  leave 
no  place,  according  to  this  account  of  the  matter,  for  the 
ideas  of  right  and  wrong.  These,  consequently,  are  not 
simple  and  original  ideas,  but  derived — the  result  of  edu¬ 
cation. 

Accordingly,  moral  good  and  evil  are  not,  in  this  philos¬ 
ophy,  independent  principles.  “  Good  or  evil  are  nothing 
but  pleasure  or  pain,  or  that  which  occasions  or  procures 
pleasure  or  pain  to  us.  Moral  good  and  evil,  thus,  is  only 
the  conformity  or  disagreement  of  our  voluntary  actions 
to  some  law  whereby  good  or  evil  is  drawn  on  us  by  the 
will  and  power  of  the  law-maker;  which  good  and  evil, 
pleasure  or  pain,  attending  our  observance  or  breach  of 
the  law,  by  the  decree  of  the  law-maker,  is  that  we  call 
reward  and  punishment.” —  (Book  II.,  ch.  28,  §  5.)  This 
manifestly  places  Locke  in  the  lower  school  of  moralists, 
in  distinction  from  the  higher  ground  of  Plato  and  Cud- 
worth.  The  morality  of  his  system  is  that  of  consequences 
rather  than  of  eternal  and  immutable  distinctions.  The 
tendency  of  his  philosophy,  it  may  be  remarked,  wras  much 
further  and  stronger  in  this  direction  than  he  himself  was 
probably  aware.  Like  most  great  minds,  he  seems  to  have 
held  views  inconsistent  with  his  own  system.  His  philoso¬ 
phy  led  to  results  wdiich  he  would  by  no  means  have 
adopted. 


80 


HISTORIC  SKETCH. 


Clarice  and  Price.  —  In  opposition  to  the  views  of 
Locke,  and  in  accordance  with  the  system  of  Cudworth, 
L>r.  Samuel  Clarke  maintains  the  eternal  nature  and  inde¬ 
pendent  character  of  moral  distinctions.  These  eternal 
differences  and  relations  of  things  determine  the  essential 
fitness  and  reasonableness  of  certain  courses  of  conduct, 
and  the  unfitness  and  unreasonableness  of  the  opposite 
courses.  With  reference  to  this  fitness,  the  will  of  God 
always  chooses;  and  creatures  ought  also  to  choose  with 
reference  to  the  same.  Duty,  obligation  result  from  this 
source,  independent  even  of  the  divine  will,  and  of  all 
prospect  of  reward  or  gain. 

Dr.  Price ,  also,  in  opposition  to  Locke,  ascribes  the  ori¬ 
gin  of  our  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  to  the  understanding , 
or  the  reason,  which  terms  are  used  to  denote  the  general 
faculty  of  intelligence,  and  which  is  affirmed  to  be  “itself 
a  source  of  new  ideas.”  We  reach  these  ideas  by  means 
of  an  intuitive  perception,  or  intuitive  judgment.  They 
express  qualities  of  actions,  and  not  mere  impressions  and 
sensations,  pleasurable  or  painful,  of  our  own  minds ;  reab 
ities,  eternal  and  immutable. 

Shaftesbury ,  Hutcheson,  Hume .  —  With  the  writers  now 
named,  there  comes  into  use  a  new  mode  of  expressing 
and  accounting  for  our  moral  ideas  and  perceptions.  It 
was  now  asserted  that  there  is  a  peculiar  faculty  of  the 
mind  whose  office  it  is  to  perceive  these  distinctions,  and 
to  this  facultv  the  name  of  the  moral  sense  was  given. 
Shaftesbury,  himself  an  advocate  of  the  independent  and 
original  nature  of  moral  distinctions,  introduced  this  use 
of  terms.  He  speaks  of  the  sense  of  right  and  of  wrong,  and 
calls  it  the  moral  sense.  He  likens  it  to  the  natural  sense 
of  the  sublime  and  the  beautiful.  Hutcheson  gives  greater 
prominence  to  this  view,  and  makes  it  the  basis  of  his  sys¬ 
tem.  We  have  a  natural  sense  or  instinct  for  the  right,  as 


NATURE  AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


81 


we  have  for  the  beauty  of  color  or  sound  —  as  we  have  in¬ 
stincts  and  affections  for  other  specific  objects.  Hume , 
adopting  this  view,  and  carrying  it  to  its  extreme  results, 
makes  virtue  and  vice,  as  well  as  beauty  and  deformity, 
matters  of  mere  taste  or  sentiment.  Right  and  wrong  do 
not  denote  any  independent  quality  in  the  object  thus  des¬ 
ignated,  but  only  an  effect  or  sensation  produced  in  our 
own  lqinds;  just  as  sweet  and  bitter,  the  pleasant  and  the 
painful,  are  merely  our  own  sensations,  and  not  properly 
qualities  of  objects.  Referring  to  the  doctrine  —  supposed 
to  be  fully  proved  in  modern  times  —  “  that  tastes  and  col¬ 
ors,  and  all  other  sensible  qualities,  lie  not  in  the  bodies, 
but  merely  in  the  senses,”  he  adds :  “  The  case  is  the  same 
with  beauty  and  deformity,  virtue  and  vice.”  —  (Essays, 
Part  I.  Essay  XVIII.)  Thus  we  are  brought  back  again, 
in  the  revolving  cycle  of  opinion,  to  the  old  doctrine  of 
Protagoras,  that  nothing  is  true  or  false,  any  more  than 
sweet  or  sour,  in  itself,  but  only  with  reference  to  the  per¬ 
ceiving  mind.  Whatever  anything  seems  to  be,  to  any 
mind,  that,  a-nd  that  only,  it  is. 

Butler. —  The  writings  of  Butler  have  justly  placed  him 
in  the  front  rank  of  English  moralists.  He  asserts,  more 
clearly,  perhaps,  than  any  preceding  writer  had  done,  the 
existence  of  a  moral  faculty,  while  he  nowhere  closely 
or  sharply  analyzes  the  precise  nature  of  this  faculty. 
His  principles  are  those  of  the  independent  school  of  mor¬ 
alists,  that  right  and  wrong  are  something  in  themselves, 
and  not  merely  in  their  consequences.  Still,  these  princi¬ 
ples  are  nowhere  very  distinctly  announced  or  systemati¬ 
cally  defended.  He  seems  purposely  to  have  avoided 
technical  or  philosophical  terms,  and  to  have  expressed 
himself  in  common  and  popular  language,  in  treating  of 
this  class  of  subjects,  —  a  language  not  always  sufficiently 
definite  for  philosophical  purposes.  He  is  classed  among 


82 


HISTORIC  SKETCH. 


the  unsystematic  moralists  by  Whewell.  Notwithstanding 
some  vagueness  of  expression,  however,  Butler  clearly 
maintains  the  independent  nature  of  moral  distinctions. 
There  is  a  difference,  he  holds,  among  our  faculties,  not  of 
degree,  merely,  but  of  kind,  —  some  are  superior  to  others, 
of  higher  authority;  and  the  faculty  to  which  belongs  an 
authority  and  supremacy  over  all  the  rest  is  conscience. 

Warburton. —  Dissatisfied  with  the  doctrines  of  Cud- 
worth,  Clarke,  Price,  and  Butler,  on  the  one  hand,  as  plac¬ 
ing  the  ground  of  morals  in  the  eternal  fitness  of  things, 
and  also  with  the  moral  sense  of  Shaftesbury,  Hutcheson, 
and  their  disciples,  as  reducing  morality  to  a  mere  senti¬ 
ment  or  taste,  a  class  of  moralists  arose  who  maintained 
that  the  will  of  Gocl  is  the  basis  of  morality  and  source 
of  obligation..  We  need  look  no  further  than  this.  To 
know  that  the  divine  will  requires  a  given  thing,  is  of  itself 
sufficient  to  put  us  under  obligation  to  do  that  thing. 
There  is  no  morality  without  law,  no  other  basis  of  obli¬ 
gation  than  the  divine  command.  Such  was  the  view  of 
Warburton.  He  lays  it  down  as  an  axiom  that  “  Obligation 
necessarily  implies  an  obliger.”  The  action  is  thus  regarded 
not  as  right  or  wrong  in  itself,  and  obligatory  because  right, 
but  only  as  commanded .  This  view  became,  for  a  time, 
the  prevalent  mode  of  thought,  and  gave  character  to  the 
moral  teaching,  especially  of  the  university  of  Cambridge. 
It  is  the  view  maintained  essentially  by  Law ,  Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy  in  the  university,  and  still  more  fully 
by  Waterland ,  Master  of  Magdalen  College. 

Paley  and  his  followers .  —  This  view  received  still  fur¬ 
ther  development  and  modification  at  the  hands  of  a  wri¬ 
ter  more  vigorous  and  popular  in  his  style,  and  far  more 
widely  known,  than  either  of  those  just  mentioned.  I 
refer  to  the  celebrated  Dr.  Paley.  To  resolve  all  obliga¬ 
tion  into  the  mere  command  of  God,  might  seem  somewhat 


NATURE  AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT.  83 

arbitrary.  Is  there  not  a  reason  why  God  commands  what 
he  does?  Seeks  he  not  always  the  happiness  of  his  crea¬ 
tures?  Is  not  this,  then,  the  real  and  ultimate  criterion  of 
duty?  Paley  was  not  the  first  to  combine  these  two  prin¬ 
ciples.  Mr.  Gay ,  Fellow  of  Sidney  College,  Cambridge, 
author  of  the  dissertation  on  the  Nature  of  Virtue  prefixed 
to  King’s  Origin  of  Evil,  had  already  advanced  this  view. 
“  Thus  the  will  of  God  is  the  criterion  of  virtue,  and  the 
happiness  of  mankind  the  criterion  of  the  will  of  God ; 
and  therefore  the  happiness  of  mankind  may  be  said  to  be 
the  criterion  of  virtue  but  once  removed.”  Gay,  accord¬ 
ingly,  defines  virtue  to  be  “  conformity  to  a  rule  of  life, 
directing  the  actions  of  all  rational  creatures  with  respect 
to  each  other’s  happiness ;  to  which  conformity  every  one, 
in  all  cases,  is  obliged.”  The  same  doctrine  is  also  advanced 
by  Tucker ,  author  of  the  “  Light  of  Nature  Pursued,”  a 
work  frequently  referred  to  by  Paley.  This  author  regards 
the  highest  good  “  to  be  none  other  than  pleasure,  or  sat¬ 
isfaction  ;  ”  and  speaks  of  it  as  absurd  to  talk  of  things  as 
being  right  in  themselves ,  without  regard  to  consequences, 
inasmuch  as  “  things  are  rendered  right  by  their  tendency 
to  some  end.”  We  are  now  fairly  and  fully  again  upon 
the  morality  of  consequences,  of  utility,  and  expediency, — 
no  new  doctrine,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  history  of  morals. 
It  is  evident,  likewise,  that  Paley  is  by  no  means  original 
in  advancing  this  system  at  the  time  when  he  wrote.  The 
writings  of  Law ,  and  especially  of  Gay,  and  Tucker ,  and 
Rutherforth,  had  fully  prepared  the  way  for  it. 

Paley  defines  virtue  to  be  “the  doing  good  to  mankind, 
in  obedience  to  the  will  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  ever¬ 
lasting  happiness.”  It  has  been  frequently  and  very  justly 
objected  to  this  scheme,  that  it  recognizes  only  one  class 
of  duties  —  those  to  mankind;  and  also  that  it  seems  to 
make  it  essential  to  a  virtuous  act  that  it  should  be  done 


84 


HISTORIC  SKETCH. 


for  the  sake  of  future  reward.  In  carrying  out  this  philos¬ 
ophy,  Paley  loses  sight  of  the  idea  of  right ,  and  of  duty  as 
based  on  the  right,  and  resolves  all  obligation  into  mere 
command,  without  reference  to  the  question  what  we 
ought  to  do.  In  this  he  follows  Warburton  and  the  Cam¬ 
bridge  moralists ;  but  goes  further  than  they  had  done, 
inasmuch  as  he  makes  moral  obligation  the  result,  not  from 
the  will  of  God  alone,  but  from  any  command  or  will  of  an¬ 
other  which  we  cannot  well  resist.  The  sum  and  substance 
of  duty  is  to  act  with  regard  to  the  highest  expediency. 

Priestley  and  Bentham, —  The  philosophy  thus  intro¬ 
duced  anew  to  public  notice,  became  immensely  popular. 
It  was  at  once  adopted  in  the  university  of  Cambridge, 
where,  as  we  have  seen,  the  same  doctrine  had  for  some¬ 
time  previously  been  taught.  Among  those  who,  about 
this  period,  take  substantially  the  same  ground,  must  be 
reckoned  two  distinguished  writers  on  Political  Science, 
—  Priestley  and Bentham,  —  neither  of  whom,  however,  is 
to  be  regarded  as  properly  a  follower  of  Paley.  Indeed, 
Priestley  had,  in  his  Essay  on  Government,  published  some 
seventeen  years  before  the  appearance  of  Paley’s  works, 
distinctly  announced  “  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  great¬ 
est  number  ”  as  the  true  and  only  proper  object  of  govern¬ 
ment.  Bentham  founds  his  system  of  political  morality 
expressly  on  this  principle  —  utility /  by  which  he  means, 
as  above,  the  greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number. 
There  is  no  essential  difference  between  this  doctrine  and 
that  of  Paley. 

Stewart .  —  In  opposition  to  these  views,  Dugald  Stew¬ 
art,  in  his  Philosophy  of  the  Active  and  Moral  Powers, 
takes  decidedly  the  ground  of  the  earlier  English  moralists, 
and  holds  moral  distinctions  to  be  eternal  and  immutable. 
The  words  right  and  wrong  express  qualities  of  actions, 
and  not  consequences  merely.  When  we  say,  of  an  act  of 


NATURE  AND  GROUND  OF  RIGHT. 


85 


justice,  that  it  is  right,  we  do  not  mean,  with  Shaftesbury 
and  Hutcheson  and  Hume,  simply  that  it  excites  pleasure 
in  the  mind,  as  a  particular  color  pleases  the  eye ;  nor,  with 
Hobbes,  that  society  and  the  strong  arm  of  the  state  re¬ 
quire  it;  nor,  with  Warburton  and  the  Cambridge  men, 
that  the  will  of  God  makes  it  imperative,  and  that  is  the 
end  of  the  matter;  nor  yet,  with  the  school  of  Paley  and 
Bentham,  that  it  is  expedient ,  useful ,  for  the  highest  hap - 
piness  of  all ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  say  that  such  a 
thing  is  right,  is  to  assert  that  respecting  it  which  is 
quite  independent  of  our  constitution  ;  as  much  so  “  as  the 
equality  of  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  and  two  right 
angles.” — “For  my  own  part,”  he  says,  “I  can  as  easily 
conceive  a  rational  being  so  formed  as  to  believe  the 
three  angles  of  a  triangle  to  be  equal  to  one  right  angle, 
as  to  believe  that,  if  he  had  it  in  his  power,  it  would  be 
right  to  sacrifice  the  happiness  of  other  men  to  the  grati¬ 
fication  of  his  own  animal  appetites.” 

Hall .  —  There  were  not  wanting  among  the  theological 
and  popular  writers  of  England,  many  to  raise  their  voice 
against  the  dangerous  tenets  of  the  school  of  Paley. 
Robert  Hall,  among  the  more  modern  writers,  thus  indig¬ 
nantly  rebukes  this  false  philosophy  :  “  How  is  it,  that  on 

a  subject  on  which  men  have  thought  deeply,  from  the 
moment  they  began  to  think,  and- where,  consequently, 
whatever  is  entirely  and  fundamentally  new  must  be  fun¬ 
damentally  false  —  how  is  it,  that  in  contempt  of  the  expe¬ 
rience  of  past  ages,  and  of  all  precedents,  human  and 
divine,  we  have  ventured  into  a  perilous  path,  which  no 
eye  has  explored,  no  foot  has  trod  ;  and  have  undertaken, 
after  the  lapse  of  six  thousand  years,  to  manufacture  a 
morality  of  our  own  —  to  decide  by  a  cold  calculation  of 
interest,  by  a  ledger-book  of  profit  and  loss,  the  preference 

8 


t 


86  HISTORIC  SKETCH. 

of  truth  to  falsehood,  of  piety  to  blasphemy,  and  of  hu- 
inanity  and  justice  to  treachery  and  blood?” 

American  Moralists .  —  In  the  preceding  sketch,  I  have 
confined  myself  thus  far  to  the  opinions  of  English  writers. 
Of  the  French  and  German  philosophers,  in  so  far  as  they 
have  discussed  the  particular  topics  now  before  us,  the 
limits  of  the  present  chapter  do  not  allow  me  to  speak. 
In  our  own  country,  the  two  great  systems  —  that  of  inde¬ 
pendent  morality,  and  the  morality  of  consequences  —  have 
each  had  their  adherents.  Edwards ,  the  distinguished 
theologian,  in  his  dissertation  on  the  Nature  of  Virtue, 
regards  virtue  as  “the  beauty  of  those  qualities  and  acts 
of  the  mind  that  are  of  a  moral  nature,”  and  defines  it  as 
consisting  essentially  in  “  benevolence  to  Being  in  general ,” 
and  more  particularly  in  love  to  God,  as  the  greatest  and 
best  of  beings.  This  benevolence  he  regards  as  a  higher 
principle  than  that  moral  sense,  or  conscience,  that  is  nat¬ 
ural  to  mankind. 

Dr.  Wayland.  — Dr.  Wayland  regards  the  ultimate  rule, 
the  basis  of  morals,  as  consisting  in,  and  arising  out  of,  the 
essential  relations  of  things ;  as,  e.  g .,  the  relation  of  parent 
and  child,  of  state  and  citizen,  of  creator  and  creature. 
These  relations  once  known,  certain  obligations  and  duties 
also  become  manifest. 

Dr.  HicJcoJc. —  According:  to  this  eminent  moralist  and 

O 

philosopher,  the  highest  good,  the  ultimate  rule  and  test 
of  action,  the  basis  of  moral  obligation,  is  worthiness  of 
spiritual  approbation ,  conformity  to  the  spirit’s  ovm  in¬ 
trinsic  excellency.  This  ultimate  right  is  simple,  immu¬ 
table,  and  universal. 


DIVISION  SECOND. 


PRACTICAL  ETHICS 


' 


PRACTICAL  ETHICS. 


PRELIMINARY  ANALYSIS  AND  CLASSIFICATION. 

Our  attention  has  hitherto  been  directed  to  those  prin¬ 
ciples  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  ethical  science — ■ 
principles,  a  correct  understanding  of  which  is  of  the 
highest  importance,  if  not  indeed  indispensable  to  our 
progress,  as  we  enter  upon  the  second  of  the  two  great 
departments  into  which  moral  science  was  divided  at  the 
outset. 

Before  proceeding  to  the  consideration  of  the  several 
duties  of  which  this  part  of  our  science  is  to  treat,  it  seems 
necessary  to  fix  upon  some  convenient  classification  of 
these  duties ;  to  this  end,  a  general  survey  of  the  field  we 
are  about  to  investigate,  and  some  analysis  of  the  several 
branches  of  duty,  become  desirable. 

,  General  Division .  —  As  we  cast  our  eye  over  the  vari¬ 
ous  lines  of  conduct  which  constitute  the  practical  duties 
of  life,  a  general  division  strikes  us  at  once.  Some  of 
these  duties  seem  to  have  more  direct  reference  to  our¬ 
selves,  others  to  our  fellow-men,  others  still  to  our  Maker. 
These  would  seem  to  be  the  natural  divisions  into  which 
this  department  of  the  science  falls. 

And  yet,  such  is  the  nature  of  duty,  that  a  wrong  done 


8* 


90 


PRELIMINARY  ANALYSIS. 


to  one’s  self,  is  also  a  wrong  done  to  society  and  to  God ; 
and  so  of  all  the  other  departments  of  duty.  It  is  impos¬ 
sible  to  neglect  or  violate  a  duty  to  society,  or  to  God, 
without  injury  to  self,  —  so  closely  interlinked  is  the  whole 
circle  of  duties,  and  of  interests,  each  with  the  other. 
Only  in  a  general  sense,  then,  and  merely  for  the  sake  of 
convenience,  can  any  such  division  be  made  as  that  now 
proposed.  In  like  manner,  we  may  regard  the  bodily  or¬ 
ganism  as  composed  of  different  members,  or  parts,  —  the 
head  —  the  trunk  —  the  limbs,  —  while  at  the  same  time 
the  system  of  bones,  of  veins,  of  nerves,  pervades  the 
whole;  and  to  injure  one  of  the  members,  or  parts,  is  to 
injure  the  whole  system. 

j Further  Analysis.  —  Adopting  the  general  division  al¬ 
ready  indicated,  we  have,  I.  The  duties  which  relate  more 
directly  to  self.  Of  these  the  principal  are,  1.  The  duty 
of  Self-support,  2.  Of  Self-defence.  3.  Of  Self-control. 
4.  Of  Self-culture. 

II.  The  duties  which  relate  more  directly  to  our  fel¬ 
low-men.  Of  these,  some  are  general ,  relating  to  man  as 
such,  or  to  society  at  large.  Of  this  class  are  the  duties 
respecting  Life ,  Liberty ,  Property ,  Reputation ,  Veracity. 
Others,  again,  arise  from  the  particular  institutions  of  so¬ 
ciety,  and  the  relations  that  thus  spring  up  between  the 
different  portions  of  the  community,  as  thus  united.  Of 
this  class  are  the  duties  arising  from  the  Family  Relation , 
as  those  of  Husband  and  Wife,  Parent  and  Child ;  and 
also  the  duties  pertaining  to  the  State ,  as  those  of  the  Cit¬ 
izen  or  Subject ,  of  the  Government ,  and  of  States  among 
themselves. 

III.  The  duties  which  more  directly  relate  to  tiie  Su¬ 
preme  Being.  Of  these,  the  principal  are  the  duty  of 
Reverence ,  of  Love ,  of  Obedience ,  of  Worship. 


PRELIMINARY  ANALYSIS. 


91 


Summary  of  Classes . —  Omitting  now  the  more  general 
divisions,  the  following  principal  classes  or  departments  ot 
duty  present  themselves  for  investigation,  in  their  order : 

I.  DUTIES  TO  SELF. 

II.  DUTIES  TO  SOCIETY. 

III.  DUTIES  TO  THE  FAMILY. 

IY.  DUTIES  TO  THE  STATE. 

Y.  DUTIES  TO  GOD. 

These  will  constitute  the  several  parts  of  the  second 
division  of  our  science,  i.  e of  Practical  Ethics. 


PART  I. 

DUTIES  TO  SELF. 


It  is  necessary,  as  we  proceed,  to  bear  in  mind  the 
remarks  already  made,  that  no  duty  is  to  be  regarded 
as  exclusively  a  duty  to  ourselves,  nor  yet  to  society,  nor 
to  the  state.  The  duties  which  we  owe  to  ourselves  are 
also,  in  a  sense,  duties  which  we  owe  to  the  family,  to 
society,  to  the  state,  and  to  our  Maker.  These  all  receive 
injury  by  any  neglect  or  injury  of  ourselves;  and  these 
all  have  an  interest,  accordingly,  in  the  faithful  observance 
of  the  duties  due  to  self.  At  the  same  time,  there  are 
certain  duties  which  relate  more  specifically  and  directly 

r 

to  ourselves.  Of  these  the  chief  are,  Self-support ,  Self- 
defence ,  Self-control ,  and  Self-culture,  These  will  be  con¬ 
sidered  in  successive  chapters. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SELF-SUPPORT. 

General  Statement .  —  There  are  certain  things  which 
every  one  must  do  for  himself,  which  others  either  cannot, 
or,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  will  not  do  for  him. 
Among  these  is  the  duty  of  providing  for  his  own  physical 
wants  —  the  duty  of  self-support.  Every  one  owes  it  to 


SELF-SUPPORT. 


93 


himself  to  make  such  provision  for  his  own  wants  as  not  to 
be  dependent  on  the  charity  of  others. 

Nature  intends  this,  and  makes  provision  for  it  by  con¬ 
ferring  upon  us  those  powers  and  faculties  which  are 
requisite  to  the  various  pursuits  of  industry,  and  by  attach¬ 
ing  to  honest  labor  the  reward  of  success,  to  idleness  the 
penalty  of  inevitable  suffering  and  want.  These  are  the 
laws  and  conditions  of  our  being,  established  by  the 
Creator,  fixed  and  immutable.  He  that  will  not  work, 
neither  shall  he  eat,  is  the  universal  law  of  the  race.  Labor 
is  requisite  in  order  to  the  production  of  the  fruits  of  the 
earth.  The  food  that  sustains  us,  the  fabrics  that  clothe 
us,  the  dwellings  that  shelter  us  from  the  inclemency  of 
the  seasons, — whatever  contributes  to  the  comfort  and  sup¬ 
plies  the  varied  and  innumerable  wants  of  man,  —  is  the 
product  of  labor.  Now,  this  labor,  that  is  universally 
requisite  to  supply  the  w^ants  and  gratify  the  desires  of 
men,  is  something  which  every  one  is  bound  to  perform  for 
himself.  No  one  has  a  right  to  require  another  to  labor 
for  him  unrequited.  I  may  exchange  labor  for  labor,  —  I 
may  give  money,  which  is  simply  the  representative  of 
labor  already  performed,  for  the  labor  of  others  which  I 
wdsh  to  procure.  Lacking  this,  I  must  earn  my  bread  by 
my  own  toil.  I  have  no  right  to  compel  another  to  labor 
for  me  without  reward.  Nor  has  another  any  right  to 
require  this  of  me. 

Exceptions  to  the  Hide.  —  The  only  exceptions,  I  sup¬ 
pose,  to  this  law  of  self-support,  are  those  cases  in  which 
there  is  a  real  inability  to  labor.  When,  in  consequence  of 
sickness,  casualty,  or  constitutional  deformity,  there  is 
lacking,  either  wholly  or  in  part,  the  power  to  provide  for 
one’s  own  subsistence,  to  that  extent  is  the  person  thus 
incapacitated  freed  from  the  duty  of  self-support,  on  the 
obvious  principle  that  it  is  unjust  to  require  of  any  man 


SELF-SUPPORT. 


94  • 

what  he  cannot  possibly  perforin.  Hence  the  duty  of 
others  who  are  able  to  labor,  or  who  possess  in  abundance 
the  means  of  life,  to  provide  for  the  necessary  wants  of  the 
sick  and  suffering ;  but  not  to  support  in  idleness  those 
who  are  able  to  labor. 

Conditions  essential  to  Self-support .  —  In  order  to  make 
suitable  provision  for  one’s  personal  wants,  certain  con¬ 
ditions  are  absolutely  essential.  Industry  is  necessary  — 
the  diligent,  faithful  pursuit  of  some  honest  calling ;  but 
not  industry  alone.  To  acquire  is  merely  one  part  of  the 
business.  If  we  expend  our  acquisitions  as  fast  as  we  make 
them,  there  is  no  provision  for  the  future.  Frugcdity  is 
necessary,  as  well  as  industry.  No  man  has  a  moral  right 
to  expend  all  that  he  earns,  if  by  so  doing  he  leaves  him¬ 
self,  or  those  dependent  on  him,  without  adequate  provision 
for  future  support.  Industry  and  frugality  become  virtues 
when  directed  to  this  end ;  and  the  want  of  them  becomes 
a  sin  against  God  and  man.  It  is  the  duty  of  every  man, 
not  absolutely  incapable  of  the  thing,  to  take  care  that 
neither  himself  nor  those  dependent  on  him  shall  become 
a  tax  upon  the  industry  and  toil  of  others.  Hence  the 
duty  both  of  industry  and  frugality  on  his  part.  It  was  a 
wise  remark  of  an  ancient  Greek  philosopher,  that  wealth 
consists  not  so  much  in  great  possessions  as  in  small 
wants.  It  is  not  the  man  that  acquires  the  least  who  is 
the  poorest,  nor  is  he  the  richest  and  most  prosperous  who 
gains  the  most. 


SELF-DEFENCE. 


95 


CHAPTER  II. 

SELF-DEFENCE. 


Reasonable . —  The  same  rule  that  makes  it  a  duty  to 
provide  for  the  further  subsistence  of  the  body,  in  order  to 
the  preservation  of  life,  justifies  and  requires  its  defence 
from  lawless  aggression  and  violence,  for  the  same  end. 
If  it  is  duty  to  preserve  life  by  supplying  the  bodily  wants, 
it  is  a  duty  to  preserve  it  by  guarding  against  needless 
injury  and  destruction.  If  it  is  incumbent  on  us  to  take 
precautions  against  disease  and  accident,  it  is  equally  our 
duty  to  ward  off  the  attacks  of  sudden  violence,  whether 
of  man  or  beast ;  and  if,  in  order  to  this,  a  resort  to  ex¬ 
treme  measures  becomes  necessary,  then  we  are  justified 
in  resorting  to  such  measures. 

o 

The  reasonableness  of  this  view  will  appear,  if  we  reflect 
that  every  man  is  by  the  constitution  of  nature,  in  an  im¬ 
portant  sense,,  his  own  guardian.  He  is  to  look  after  his 
own  interests,  and  attend  to  his  own  wants.  No  one  else 
can  do  this  for  him.  His  own  life  and  safety  are  of  vastly 
more  consequence  to  him  than  they  are  to  any  one  else. 
If  he  is  too  negligent,  or  indolent,  or  cowardly,  to  protect 
his  own  life  and  person  against  lawless  aggression,  he  is 
false  to  himself. 

Hence,  it  is  the  instinct  of  nature,  as  well  as  the  dictate 
of  reason,  to  defend  ourselves  when  in  danger.  It  has 
been  called,  not  improperly,  Nature’s  first  law.  It  is  a  con¬ 
stitutional  impulse,  and  he  who  implanted  it  in  the  human 
mind  had  a  design  to  be  accomplished  by  it.  In  yielding 
to  this  impulse,  within  due  bounds,  we  are  simply  carrying 
out  this  design. 


96 


SELF-DEFENCE. 


Due  not  to  Ourselves  alone . — Nor  is  this  a  matter  merely 
allowable  —  a  thing  to  be  justified,  merely.  It  rises  to  the 
rank  of  a  duty,  and  that  not  to  ourselves  only.  It  is  not  a 
matter  in  which  we  only  are  concerned.  Others  have  an 
interest  in  it.  Our  lives  are  of  value  to  many  beside  our¬ 
selves.  If  we  fall  under  the  blows  of  the  assassin,  we 
leave  others,  unprotected  and  helpless,  it  may  be,  depend¬ 
ent  on  the  charities  of  the  world,  to  struggle  with  mis¬ 
fortune  and  want.  This  calamity  we  have  no  right  to 
entail  upon  them. 

We  owe  it,  also,  to  many  who  are  not  directly  depend¬ 
ent  on  us.  Were  it  understood  that,  whether  from  lack 
of  right  or  lack  of  courage,  men  would  not  defend  them¬ 
selves  when  attacked,  acts  of  violence  would  be  much 
more  numerous  than  they  are.  Every  instance  of  resolute 
self-defence  acts  as  a  preventive  of  similar  crime.  The 
safety  of  the  entire  community  is  in  a  measure  entrusted, 
in  such  cases,  to  our  keeping. 

Objection.  —  But  do  not  the  Scriptures  forbid  self-de¬ 
fence  ?  Did  not  Christ  command  us,  when  smitten  on  one 
cheek,  to  turn  the  other  also  ?  I  reply,  it  was  not  the  inten¬ 
tion  of  our  Saviour,  in  those  words,  to  forbid  self-defence 
in  cases  of  real  danger,  but  only  the  exercise  of  a  revenge¬ 
ful  and  quarrelsome  spirit.  Better  even  to  suffer  a  repeti¬ 
tion  of  the  wrong  and  abuse,  than  on  slight  and  needless 
grounds  to  engage  in  controversy.  That  Christ  did  not 
mean  to  forbid  self-defence  in  cases  of  serious  danger,  is 
evident  from  his  permitting  his  disciples  to  arm  them¬ 
selves,  on  at  least  one  occasion.  “He  that  hath  no  sword, 
let  him  sell  his  garment  and  buy  one.”  —  “And  they  said, 
Lord,  behold  here  are  two  swords.”  —  “And  he  said  unto 
them,  it  is  enough.”  One  of  these  swords  was  actually 
used  in  defence  of  his  Master,  by  one  of  the  disciples,  but 
a  short  time  after  these  words  were  spoken.  Now,  al- 


SELF-DEFENCE.  97 

though  the  purpose  of  Christ  required  that  he  should  be 
given  up  at  this  time  to  his  enemies,  and  therefore  defence 
was  not  necessary,  and  so  not  allowed,  still,  our  Saviour 
would  not  have  spoken  in  this  manner,  much  less  have 
permitted  his  disciples  actually  to  arm  themselves,  and 
even  to  draw  and  use  the  sword  in  the  instance  referred 
to,  had  he  regarded  all  self-defence  in  such  cases  as  sinful, 
and  therefore  to  be  condemned. 

Further  Objection . —  But  it  may  be  said,  why  not  leave 
the  defence  of  person  and  property  to  the  law,  which  is 
the  properly  constituted  guardian  of  the  rights  of  the 
community?  I  reply,  in  all  cases  where  a  resort  to  the 
law  is  possible,  this  should  be  done.  We  are  entitled,  as 
citizens,  to  the  protection  of  the  civil  arm ;  and  where  the 
case  admits  of  appeal  to  that  protection,  it  is  undoubtedly 
the  proper  mode  of  defence.  But  in  many  cases,  such  an 
appeal  is  out  of  the  question.  When  attacked  by  the 
midnight  robber  and  assassin,  the  protection  of  my  life  or 
property  is,  by  the  very  circumstances  of  the  case,  commit¬ 
ted  to  my  own  hands.  I  must  resolutely  and  instantly 
defend,  or  tamely  surrender  them.  Now,  when  it  comes 
,  to  this,  as  it  often  does,  which  of  the  two  shall  die,  —  the 
assailer  or  the  assailed,  —  no  reason  can  be  shown  why  I 
should  prefer  the  life  of  the  aggressor  to  my  own.  He  de¬ 
serves  to  die.  The  very  act  of  violence  which  he  is  per¬ 
petrating  forfeits  his  claim  to  life.  I  have  the  right  to 
live,  and  to  defend  myself  that  I  may  live. 

Limitations  of  the  llule .  —  Within  what  limits,  it  may 
be  asked,  and  on  what  occasions,  is  the  resort  to  extreme 
measures  justifiable  in  self-defence?  The  case  already 
supposed  suggests,  I  think,  the  true  limit.  I  am  author 
ized  to  take  the  matter  of  protecting  my  person  and  prop¬ 
erty  into  my  own  hands  only  when  there  is  no  other  appar¬ 
ent  and  probable  mode  of  defence ;  and  I  am  at  liberty  to 

9 


98 


SELF-DEFENCE. 


resort  to  extreme  measures  in  the  case  only  when  milclei 
measures  will  not  answer  the  purpose.  If  a  simple  warn¬ 
ing,  or  the  mere  presentation  of  a  weapon,  is  sufficient  to 
deter  the  aggressor  from  his  purpose,  I  am  not  justified  in 
doing  more,  since  self-defence  in  that  case  does  not  require 
it.  But  if  I  can  preserve  my  own  life  only  by  taking  his, 
or  if  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  this  is  the  only  alterna- 
tive,  the  measure  is  justifiable. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  moreover,  that  it  is  only  from  law - 
less  violence  that  life  is  to  be  preserved  at  the  expense  of 
life.  Suppose,  when  attacked,  I  act  upon  the  principle  of 
self-defence.  The  assailant  becomes  himself  assailed,  and 
it  may  be  that  his  life,  in  turn,  is  in  danger.  Is  it  for  him 
now  to  proceed  upon  the  principle  above  stated,  and  pre¬ 
serve  his  own  life  by  taking  mine?  Would  he  be  justified 
in  so  doing?  Manifestly  not.  The  violence  from  which  I 
defend  myself  is  lawless  ;  that  from  which  lie  defends  him¬ 
self  is  lawful .  lie  had  no  right  to  put  my  life  in  danger; 

I  have  the  right,  in  self-defence,  to  endanger  his. 

On  the  same  principle,  the  prisoner  under  sentence  of 
law,  or  under  arrest,  is  not  at  liberty  to  set  himself  free  by 
an  attack  upon  his  keeper.  The  right  of  self-defence  does  . 
not  belong  to  him  under  those  circumstances. 

Further  Limitation.  —  It  may  admit  of  serious  question, 
whether,  for  the  defence  of  property  alone,  where  life  is 
not  also  at  stake,  it  is  right  to  take  human  life.  A  robber 
assails  me  on  the  highway.  lie  demands  my  property 
merely,  and  promises  that  my  life  and  person  shall  be  urn 
harmed,  in  case  I  surrender  my  purse.  He  has  no  right  to 
make  that  demand,  much  less  a  right  to  threaten  my  life, 
in  case  of  refusal.  I  can  protect  my  property  only  by  tak¬ 
ing  the  life  of  the  aggressor.  Have  I  a  right  to  do  so? 
In  the  eye  of  the  law,  I  should  be  guilty  of  no  crime,  in 
the  case  now  supposed,  were  I  to  do  this.  But  have  I  a 


SELF-DEFENCE. 


99 


moral  right?  Where  my  life  is  in  peril,  and  can  be  pre¬ 
served  only  by  the  death  of  my  assailant,  I  am  at  liberty 
to  defend  myself  to  the  last  extremity,  since  my  life  is ,  at 
least ,  of  equal  value  with  his.  But  is  it  certain  that  my 
property  is  of  equal  value  with  the  life  of  the  assailant  ? 
This  is  not  so  clear.  There  may  be  cases  in  which  the 
protection  of  property  may  be  justifiable,  even  at  the  ex¬ 
pense  of  life.  But,  where  any  doubt  remains,  it  were  cer¬ 
tainly  better  to  part  with  any  amount  of  property,  rather 
than  to  incur  the  guilt  of  unlawfully  shedding  human 
blood. 

Defence  of  the  Rights  of  Others.  —  I  would  by  no 
means  be  understood  as  limiting  the  right  of  defence  to 
those  cases  in  which  our  own  life,  person,  or  property  is  in 
danger.  The  same  principle  extends  to  the  rights  of  oth¬ 
ers.  The  lives,  the  safety,  the  property  of  others,  may  be 
committed  to  our  care,  and  dependent  on  us;  in  that  case, 
the  same  reasons  that  render  the  defence  of  our  own  lives 
or  property  justifiable,  require  us  to  defend  theirs.  Every 
man  owes  it  both  to  himself  and  to  his  family,  to  defend 
from  danger  those  who  look  to  him  as  their  natural  guar¬ 
dian  and  protector. 

A  Questionable  Case.  —  It  may  sometimes  happen,  in 
other  cases  besides  those  of  lawless  aggression,  that  our 
own  lives,  or  property,  can  be  protected  only  at  the  ex¬ 
pense  of  the  life  and  property  of  another.  My  neighbor’s 
house  and  my  own  are  both  in  danger  of  destruction,  by 
fire,  at  one  and  the  same  moment.  There  are  means  of 
preserving  one  of  them,  but  not  both.  Which  shall  it  be  ? 
Does  duty  to  myself  require  me  to  protect  my  own  prop¬ 
erty  at  the  expense  of  his?  A  plank,  floating  on  the 
water,  comes  within  my  reach  as  I  am  struinjlinsr  for  life. 
It  is  sufficient  to  bear  up  one  alone.  At  my  side  is  another 
person,  also  struggling  for  life.  Does  the  law  of  self-pro- 


100 


SELF  -  CONTROL. 


tection  apply  in  such  a  case  ?  It  is  difficult  to  lay  down 
any  rule  that  shall  apply  to  all  such  cases.  They  must  be 
determined  according  to  circumstances.  As  a  general 
principle,  it  is  better  to  suffer  harm  ourselves,  than  to  pro¬ 
tect  ourselves  at  the  risk  of  injustice  to  others;  better 
always  to  suffer  wrong,  than  to  do  wrong;  and  where 
there  is  danger  of  wronging  another,  in  the  act  of  protect¬ 
ing  self,  it  would  be  the  impulse  of  a  true  and  generous 
heart  to  forego  the  claims  of  self-protection.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  on  which  side  we  shall  be  most  liable,  in  such 
cases,  to  err.  The  danger  is,  that  selfishness  will  prevail 
over  a  due  consideration  of  the  rights  of  others,  and  that 
the  instinct  of  self-preservation  will  prove  stronger  than 
all  our  scruples. 


CHAPTER  III.  .  4, 

SELF-CONTROL. 

Prominent  among  the  duties  which  we  owe  to  our¬ 
selves,  is  that  of  self-control.  This  relates  to  the  govern¬ 
ment  of  the  temper,  and  of  all  those  appetites,  propensi¬ 
ties,  and  passions,  which,  while  having  their  foundation  in 
the  constitution  of  our  nature,  require  to  be  kept  under 
restraint,  subject  to  the  dictates  of  reason  and  discretion. 

As  relates  to  the  Temper .  —  Every  man  awes  it  to  him¬ 
self  to  maintain  perfect  control  over  his  own  temper.  I 
refer  more  particularly  to  those  feelings  of  indignation  and 
resentment  which  naturally  arise  in  view  of  injury  received, 
and  which  is  properly  called  anger.  These  feelings  require 
to  be  held  in  check  with  a  firm  and  steady  hand.  Unre¬ 
strained,  they  trample  on  all  that  is  sacred,  and  subject 
reason,  judgment,  principle,  the  man  himself,  to  their 


SELF-CONTROL. 


101 


petty  tyranny.  They  destroy  character  and  influence, 
and  shorten  life  itself. 

The  man  who  has  no  control  over  himself  in  this  matter, 

_ whose  an ^er  breaks  forth,  lawless  and  ungovernable,  on 

every  provocation,-— is  wholly  at  the  meicy  of  events.  He 
is  not  his  own  master.  He  is  like  one  afflicted  with  the 
St.  Vitus’  dance,  who  has  no  control  over  his  own  move¬ 
ments,  but  must  go  when  the  fit  takes  him,  wherever  he 
may  be.  Nay,  worse ;  it  is  in  the  power  of  his  enemies  to 
bring  the  fit  of  anger  upon  him,  and  make  themselves 
merry  at  his  expense. 

‘  *  7- .  .  .  >  .  .  \  ;  j,  *  .  .  v.  f  y  -  >  *  v  **}» 

These  feelings  are  capable  of  control.  By  clue  care  and 
self-discipline,  they  may  be  brought  into  subjection  to  rea¬ 
son  and  the  will.  But  to  do  this,  requires  effort,  resolution, 
vigilance.  It  is  the  work  of  time.  There  is,  howcvci,  no 
nobler  conquest  for  any  man  to  make  than  the  conquest 
of  himself ;  none,  perhaps,  more  difficult  j  must  I  add,  none 
more  seldom  made.  It  is  easier  to  subdue  kingdoms,  and 
lead  armies  captive,  than  to  subdue  and  lead  captive  one  s 
own  rebellious  passions.  Hence  it  is,  that  uIIe  that  is  slow 
to  anger,  is  better  than  the  mighty ;  and  he  that  ruleth  his 
spirit,  than  he  that  taketh  a  city.”  For  want  of  this  con¬ 
trol  manv  of  the  greatest  men  in  the  world’s  history, 
most  distinguished  for  valor  and  brilliant  achievement, 
have  been  really  among  the  weakest  of  men  —  objects  of 
compassion  rather  than  of  envy  to  every  sensible  mind. 
The  hero  who  wept  that  there  were  no  more  worlds  to 
conquer,  seems  never  to  have  learned  that  within  his  own 
bosom  lay  a  restless  and  turbulent  kingdom,  over  which, 
with  all  his  armies  and  all  his  power  and  valor,  he  had  as 
yet  attained  no  dominion. 

As  relates  to  other  Passio7is  and  Propensities.  —  But 
©’elf-control  relates  not  to  the  temper  alone ;  it  implies  the 

9* 


102 


SELF-CONTROL. 


due  restraint  of  all  our  passions,  appetites,  and  propensi¬ 
ties.  It  includes  what  we  mean  by  temperance,  in  its 
widest  sense  —  abstinence  from  all  those  excesses  and 
vices  which  injure  the  health,  impair  the  strength  and 
activity  of  body  and  mind,  weaken  the  character  and  in¬ 
fluence,  cut  short  the  life.  To  yield  to  the  passions  and 
appetites  of  the  animal  nature,  without  restraint,  involves 
these  consequences.  They  may  be  remote,  and  slow  of 
approach,  but  they  are  sure.  The  eternal  and  immutable 
laws  of  nature  have  established  this  connection,  and  de¬ 
creed  these  results.  They  are  not  to  be  avoided.  Hence, 
it  is  one  of  the  plainest  dictates  of  prudence,  one  of  the 
first  and  most  imperative  duties  which  we  owe  to  our¬ 
selves,  to  keep  these  appetites  and  propensities  of  the  ani¬ 
mal  nature  under  strict  control.  If  to  defend  the  person 
from  the  violent  assault  of  robber  or  assassin,  be  a  duty, 
much  more  to  defend  the  mind  and  moral  nature  from 
injury  and  ruin.  Sensuality  ruins  both  body  and  soul. 
He  who  yields  to  this  foe  is  lost. 

It  may  be  difficult,  in  many  cases,  to  assign  the  precise 
limit  within  which  indulgence  of  the  appetites  is  allow¬ 
able,  and  beyond  which  it  becomes  a  crime.  Such  limits 
there  are  ;  and  it  is  for  each  one,  by  careful  observation,  to 
determine  for  himself  where  they  lie.  One  thing  is  cer¬ 
tain,  that  he  who  finds  the  demands  of  appetite  increasing 
upon  him  beyond  his  power  of  successful  resistance,  has 
already  passed  that  limit. 

Ohjection.  —  It  may  be  urged  by  some,  that,  inasmuch 
as  the  passions  and  propensities  of  our  nature  are  a  part  of 
our  original  constitution,  and,  in  a  sense,  the  gift  of  the 
Creator,  it  is  therefore  right  to  indulge  the  same,  without 
other  limit  than  that  which  nature  itself  imposes;  in  other 
words,  without  restraint.  This  is  the  practical  philoso¬ 
phy  according  to  which  too  many,  doubtless,  are  disposed 


SELF-CONTROL. 


103 


to  govern  their  conduct.  It  is  a  philosophy,  however,  as 
false  as  it  is  shallow  —  at  war  not  more  with  reason  and 
revelation  than  with  the  common  sense  of  mankind.  The 
fact  that  a  given  propensity  or  passion  is  founded  in  the 
nature  with  which  the  Creator  has  endowed  us,  is  surely 
no  warrant  for  the  indulgence  of  that  propensity  or  pas¬ 
sion  beyond  the  limits  which  the  Creator  has  himself  as¬ 
signed.  He  who  indulges  his  passions  without  restraint, 
transgresses  these  limits,  and,  in  reality,  does  violence  to 
his  own  nature.  Self-control,  firm  and  habitual,  is  not  less 
the  dictate  of  reason  than  the  command  of  God. 

Necessary  to  Self-respect ,  and  the  Hespect  of  Others .  — 
The  exercise  of  a  due  self-control,  both  in  regard  to  the 
temper  and  the  various  animal  propensities  of  our  nature, 
is  necessary  to  all  true  self-respect.  No  man  who  is  under 
the  dominion  of  his  baser  appetites  and  passions,  can  truly 
respect  himself.  He  knows  his  own  weakness  and  degra¬ 
dation  ;  knows  and  feels  that  he  is  a  slave,  that  the  sceptre 
has  departed  from  him,  that  the  crown  of  his  integrity  ajid 
honor  is  in  the  dust.  The  effect  of  this  is  most  disastrous 
upon  the  character.  He  who  has  lost  his  self-respect,  has 
lost  that  which  no  gold  can  buy.  His  courage  and  his 
moral  strength  are  gone  ;  nor  can  virtue  long  maintain  its 
ascendency  in  the  absence  of  this  principle. 

Self-control  is  necessary  also  in  order  to  the  respect  of 
others.  No  man  can  for  any  length  of  time  receive  the 
real  homage  and  respect  of  others,  who  lacks  the  mastery 
of  himself.  Station,  power,  wealth,  may  do  something  for 
him ;  native  talent  and  genius,  still  more ;  but  not  even 
these  can  ultimately  keep  back  from  merited  contempt  the 
helpless  slave  of  his  own  miserable  passions.  Sad  indeed 
is  the  spectacle,  of  one  born  to  high  honors,  and  endowed 
by  nature  with  princely  gifts,  from  whose  hand  is  stricken 
the  sceptre  of  dominion  over  his  own  spirit. 


104 


SELF-CULTURE. 


CHAPTER  IY. 

SELF-CULTURE.  *  |  *  c : 

Statement . —  To  abstain  from  those  things  which  injure 
us,  to  avoid  those  excesses  and  undue  indulgences  of  the 
natural  appetites  and  propensities  which  work  mischief  and 
ruin,  is  a  duty,  but  not  the  whole  duty  which  every  intelli¬ 
gent  rational  being  owes  to  himself.  There  are  things  to 
be  attained,  as  well  as  things  to  be  avoided ;  positive,  as 
well  as  negative  duties.  Self-culture,  not  less  than  self- 
control,  becomes  imperative.  I  have  no  right  to  neglect 
my  own  highest  welfare  and  advancement.  My  duty  is 
only  in  part  performed  when  I  refrain  from  that  which 
positively  injures  and  degrades  my  mental  or  bodily 
powers.  It  is  my  duty  to  develop  and  cultivate  those 
powers  to  the  highest  degree  of  which  they  are,  under  the 
circumstances,  susceptible,  —  to  make  the  most  of  the 
faculties  with  which  nature  has  endowed  me.  This  is  the 
duty  of  every  man  —  a  duty  which  he  owes  first  of  all  to 
himself,  but  not  to  himself  alone.  The  family,  the  state, 
society  at  large,  the  Creator  —  all  have  an  interest  in  this 
matter,  and  are  concerned  in  its  performance  or  neglect. 
The  highest  wrong  is  done  not  to  self  alone,  but  to  others, 
by  every  instance  of  such  neglect. 

Extends  to  what,  —  The  duty  of  self-culture  includes  in 
its  proper  province  the  entire  range  of  our  natural  faculties, 
whether  of  body  or  mind.  It  includes  physical  culture  not 
less  than  mental.  A  healthy  and  well-developed  physical 
organism  is  one  of  the  very  choicest  goods  of  life  ;  and,  in 
so  far  as  it  is  a  result  to  be  attained  by  careful  training  and 


SELF-CULTURE. 


105 


* 


culture,  it  is  a  duty  imperative  on  every  man  to  make  that 
attainment,  and  to  put  forth  the  effort  necessary  to  it.  A 
sound  mind  in  a  sound  body,  is  a  maxim  true  in  philoso¬ 
phy  and  true  in  morals.  The  history  of  the  Greeks  shows 
what  may  be  done  in  this  branch  of  education.  In  mod¬ 
ern  times,  and  more  especially  among  our  own  country¬ 
men,  this  department  of  education  has  fallen  into  disrepute, 
and  been  very  generally  overlooked.  The  theory  with  us 
is  to  discipline  and  develop  the  mind,  and  let  the  physical 
powers  take  care  of  themselves.  Our  institutions  of  learn¬ 
ing,  our  whole  educational  system,  look  chiefly  to  this.  It 
admits  of  serious  question,  whether  in  this  we  are  not 
commuting  a  radical  mistake.  So  intimate  is  the  connec¬ 
tion  between  the  physical  and  the  mental  state,  that  the 
highest  condition  and  most  favorable  development  of  the 
latter  can  hardly  be  secured  without  due  attention  to  the 
training  and  discipline  of  the  former. 

Includes  also  Mental  Discipline .  —  Self-culture  extends 
also  to  the  improvement  of  the  intellectual  and  moral 
powers.  No  man  is  at  liberty  to  neglect  his  own  mental 
discipline  and  culture.  Not  even  are  the  claims  of  busi¬ 
ness  paramount  to  this.  No  pressure  of  professional  or 
business  engagements  can  justify  the  neglect  of  mental 
discipline.  No  man  in  this  busy  world  lias  a  right  so  to 
involve  himself  in  the  pursuits  and  cares  of  active  life,  that 
it  shall  be  out  of  his  power  to  give  both  time  and  care  to 
the  improvement  of  his  own  mind.  Nature  never  intended 
this.  He  who  made  the  mind,  and  endowed  it  with  its 
wondrous  faculties,  had  no  such  intention. 

Nor  is  the  culture  of  the  mind  to  be  made  subordinate 
to  success  in  the  various  employments  of  life,  and  to  be 
pursued  merely  as  a  means  to  that  end.  A  means  to  that 
end  it  unquestionably  is.  But  that  is  not  the  whole  or  the 
chief  reason  why  it  should  receive  attention.  The  im- 


106 


SELF-CULTURE. 

provement  of  the  mind  is,  in  itself,  a  good  of  inestimable 
worth,  aside  from  all  the  gain  that  comes  of  it  in  the 
more  successful  pursuits  of  life.  A  well-cultivated  mind, 
richly  stored  with  the  best  acquisitions,  is  itself  a  treasure 
with  which  no  material  wealth  can  compare.  “For  wis¬ 
dom  is  better  than  rubies  ;  and  all  the  things  that  may  be 
desired  are  not  to  be  compared  to  it.” 

Not  limited  to  the  Intellect .  —  Nor  is  the  duty  of  which 
I  speak  limited  to  the  culture  of  the  intellect  alone.  Mem¬ 
ory,  imagination,  judgment,  the  reasoning  powers,  taste, 
conscience  —  all  are  to  be  educated  and  strengthened  ;  but 
the  sensibilities  also  claim  regard,  and  likewise  the  will. 
These  great  departments  of  the  mind’s  activity  are  not  to 
be  overlooked  in  the  process  of  mental  training.  The 
heart  requires  education  and  discipline,  as  well  as  the 
head  ;  the  feelings,  no  less  than  the  intellectual  powers. 
He  only  is  the  symmetrical,  fully  developed,  well-educated 
man,  with  whom  all  these  faculties  of  his  higher  and  spirit¬ 
ual  nature  have  received  due  care  and  training.  He  who 
fails  of  this,  fails  in  one  of  the  first  duties  which  he  owes 
to  himself. 

Encouragements  to  this  work. —  Very  great  are  the 
inducements,  very  pressing  the  motives,  to  the  faithful 
performance  of  this  duty.  Other  acquisitions  are  external, 
and  of  precarious  tenure  ;  these,  a  part  of  the  soul  itself — so 
much  of  real  value  added  to  the  man.  Other  riches  may 
take  wings ;  this  is  the  true  wealth  that  remains,  while 
the  mind  itself  has  any  being,  its  inalienable  inheritance. 

Nor  does  success  in  this  work  depend  wholly  on  early 
advantages.  In  the  absence  of  these,  amid  the  pressing 
cares  of  active  life,  much  may  be  done  by  judicious  method, 
industry,  and  perseverance,  to  repair  the  deficiences  of 
early  training.  Many  of  the  brightest  names  in  literature 
and  science  attest  the  truth  of  this. 


PAIIT  II. 


DUTIES  TO  SOCIETY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 

Value  of  Life .  —  Of  the  duties  which  we  owe  to  our 
fellow-men  in  general,  one  of  the  most  imperative  is  the 
regard  which  is  due  to  human  life.  Life  is  one  of  the 
greatest  goods,  one  of  the  first  and  chief  rights  of  nature. 
In  comparison  with  it  all  other  natural  goods  and  posses¬ 
sions  are  of  little  account ;  since,  when  life  itself  is  at  an 
end,  all  those  possessions  and  enjoyments  which  pertain  to 
and  depend  upon  it  are  also  ended.  “  All  that  a  man  hath 
will  he  give  for  his  life.”  Hence,  to  take  human  life,  has 
been  regarded  in  all  ages  as  a  great  crime.  It  is  to  rob  a 
man  of  all  his  possessions  and  enjoyments  at  a  stroke,  to 
cut  him  off  from  all  his  plans  of  business,  or  of  pleasure  — 
from  all  the  pursuits  and  all  the  friendships  of  life,  and  to 
usher  him,  without  warning  or  preparation,  into  the  scenes 
of  a  new  and  untried  existence. 

The  injury  thus  done  is  irreparable.  Property  taken  by 
fraud  or  violence,  may  be  restored  ;  reputation  unjustly 
assailed,  may  be  made  good  ;  health  may  be  regained ; 
but  life  itself  destroyed,  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  man  to 


108 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 


make  good  the  loss.  Hence  a  peculiar  sacredness  at- 
v  taclies  to  human  life.  It  is  the  gift  of  Deity.  Man  cannot 
impart  it ;  and  what  he  cannot  bestow,  he  has  no  right 
to  take  away.  Only  he  who  gave  it  can  authorize  its 
destruction. 

Distinctions  Recognized.  —  The  laws  of  the  state  make 
certain  distinctions  in  the  crime  of  taking  human  life ;  as 
murder,  manslaughter,  etc.  It  is  sufficient,  in  morals,  to 
draw  the  broad  distinction  between  the  premeditated  and 
intentional,  and  the  merely  accidental  taking  of  life.  The 
former  incurs  the  highest  guilt ;  the  latter  may  be  inno¬ 
cent.  It  is  not  a  violation  of  the  moral  code,  provided  it  is 
not  the  result  of  carelessness  which  might  and  should  have 
been  avoided.  If,  by  reckless  driving  through  the  streets 
of  a  crowded  city,  life  is  sacrificed,  the  doer  of  the  mis¬ 
chief  is  responsible  for  his  carelessness,  though  not  guilty 
of  murder.  If,  by  the  recklessness  of  an  engineer,  the 
vessel,  or  the  car,  with  its  freight  of  life,  is  driven  to  de¬ 
struction,  the  author  of  the  calamity,  though  not  justly 
chargeable  with  intentional  murder,  is  by  no  means  free 
from  the  guilt  of  taking  human  life.  In  such  cases,  the 
laws  of  most  nations  arraign  him  for  manslaughter ,  making 
the  distinction  between  that  and  the  premeditated  and 
intentional  taking  of  life,  which  is  denominated  murder. 

When  the  crime  is  not  only  premeditated,  but  secret 
in  its  execution,  the  agent  not  exposing  his  own  life  by 
giving  the  victim  an  opportunity  of  self-defence,  there  is 
added  to  the  guilt  which  otherwise  and  necessarily  pertains 
to  the  act,  the  meanness  of  cowardice.  The  murderer 
under  such  circumstances  becomes  the  assassin . 

When  an  unlawful  assault  is  committed,  such  as  from 
its  nature  must  be  more  or  less  dangerous  to  life,  should 
such  assault  ultimately  resift  in  death,  although  such 
result  may  not  have  been  strictly  intended  by  the  assailant, 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 


100 


still,  as  the  act  was  itself  unlawful,  a  crime,  and  not  an 
accident,  the  author  of  the  violence  is  not  free  from  respon¬ 
sibility  for  the  fatal  consequences.  He  is  guilty  of  man¬ 
slaughter. 

o 

In  general,  with  respect  to  injuries  inflicted  upon  the 
person,  malicious  intention  is  inferred  from  the  act  itself; 
and  whatever  consequences  result,  are  presumed  in  law 
to  have  been  intended,  unless  there  are  some  mitigating 
circumstances  to  excuse  the  act,  and  to  show  that  it  was 
unintentional. 

When  one  person  kills  another  in  the  heat  of  passion,  in 
a  sudden  quarrel,  arising  from  provocation,  and  without 
previous  intention  to  take  life,  it  is  also,  in  English  and 
American  law,  termed  manslaughter ;  but  if  the  passions 
have  had  time  to  cool,  and  the  person  provoked  afterwards 
kills  the  other,  it  is  regarded  as  murder. 

The  term  homicide  is  usually,  in  law,  applied  to  denote, 
in  general,  the  taking  of  human  life,  whether  by  design  or 
unintentionally,  including  murder  and  manslaughter,  etc. 
When  the  act  is  purely  unintentional  and  accidental,  it  is 
termed  excusable  homicide .  The  Jewish  law,  even  in  such 
cases,  gave  no  protection  to  the  slayer,  unless  he  took 
refuge  in  certain  cities  specially  designated  as  places  of 
refuge.  The  English  law  imposes  a  fine  on  the  person 
who  has  committed  excusable  homicide,  —  a  fine  which, 
however,  in  practice,  is  remitted,  —  and  also  makes  him 
forfeit  the  instrument  with  which  the  offence  was  com¬ 
mitted.  This  is  termed  a  deodand ,  and  the  law  exacting 
it  is  still  in  force. 

Homicide  Justifiable  in  what  Cases.  —  There  is  a  dis¬ 
tinction  in  law  between  justifiable  and  excusable  homicide. 
The  cases  just  referred  to,  where  the  slaying  is  simply 
accidental,  are  instances  of  excusable  homicide,  though  not 
perhaps  justifiable.  Homicide  in  an  unpremeditated  af- 

10 


110 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 


fray,  though  strictly  in  self-defence,  is  in  English  law  also 
regarded  as  excusable  rather  than  justifiable.  This  is 
termed  chance-medley.  When  death  occurs  as  the  result 
of  any  game  which  is  likely  to  end  in  blood,  —  as  of  box¬ 
ing,  sword-playing,  etc.,  —  or  as  the  consequence  of  any 
dangerous  and  unlawful  act,  —  as  shooting,  or  casting  stones 
in  a  town,  —  the  homicide  is  not  in  law  justifiable  :  it  may  or 
may  not  be  excusable.  By  the  public  laws  of  Athens  and 
Rome,  he  who  killed  another  in  the  public  games  author¬ 
ized  by  the  state,  was  not  held  guilty  of  homicide ;  so  by 
the  English  law,  death  resulting  from  the  exercise  of  any 
sports  and  games  authorized  by  the  king,  is  regarded  as 
excusable  homicide.  . 

By  the  old  Jewish  and  Roman  laws,  as  well  as  by  the 
laws  of  England  and  of  our  own  country,  homicide  is 
justifiable  when  committed  in  self-defence  from  any  un¬ 
lawful  and  violent  assault,  or  for  the  prevention  of  any 
atrocious  crime.  If  any  one  attempts  robbery  or  murder, 
and  is  killed  ii>  the  attempt,  the  killing  is  justifiable.  The 
Jewish  law  justifies  the  slaying  of  the  robber  only  in  the 
act  of  breaking  open  a  house,  and  that  only  in  the  night 
time :  “  If  the  sun  be  risen  upon  him,  there  shall  be  blood 
shed  for  him.”  The  Roman  law  was  similar,  with  this 
difference,  that  a  thief  detected  by  day  might  be  slain, 
should  he  defend  himself  with  a  weapon,  provided  the 
slayer  first  make  outcry  for  help.  Roman  law  allowed  any 
one  to  slay  a  person  assaulting  him  with  a  weapon,  whether 
the  assailant  were  a  robber  or  not,  provided  the  assailed 
was  in  fear  of  his  life,  and  could  in  no  other  way  effectu¬ 
ally  protect  himself.  English  law  allows  the  same. 

The  laws  of  Solon  make  the  same  distinction  as  the 
Jewish  and  Roman  law  between  the  slaving  of  the  robber 
by  night  and  by  day.  The  ground  of  this  distinction  is 
evidently  this :  that  in  case  of  night  attack,  greater  danger 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 


Ill 


to  life  may  fairly  be  presumed  on  the  part  of  the  person 

%  • 

assailed,  inasmuch  as  he  cannot  so  fully  know  the  precise 
extent  of  his  danger,  and  cannot  so  readily  obtain  help. 
He  may  therefore  be  justified  to  the  extent  of  his  supposed 
danger.  By  day  there  are  other  means  of  redress. 

Execution  of  Law.  —  There  are  cases  in  which  human 
life  becomes  forfeited  by  crime,  and  the  laws  of  the  land 
and  the  voice  of  universal  justice  demand  the  payment  of 
the  forfeit.  In  such  cases,  not  justice  to  the  criminal  alone, 
but  justice"  to  the  whole  community,  and  the  safety  of  the 
whole,  require  the  death  of  the  criminal.  The  very  sacred¬ 
ness  of  human  life  demands  this  protection  from  the  hand 
of  violence,  and  makes  it  an  imperative  necessity  that 
“  Whoso  sheddeth  man’s  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be 
shed.”  In  no  other  way  can  the  proper  protection  be 
thrown  about  the  innocent  and  defenceless,  than  by  mak¬ 
ing  the  life  of  the  murderer  the  penalty  of  his  crime. 
When  an  officer  of  justice,  in  pursuance  of  the  sentence 
of  law,  takes  human  life,  under  such  circumstances,  he  is 
of  course  not  guilty  of  a  crime,  but,  on  the  contrary,  is 
discharging  a  high  and  solemn  duty. 

In  other  cases,  —  as  where  an  officer,  in  the  discharge  of 
his  official  duties,  is  violently  resisted  and  assailed ;  as,  for 
example,  by  a  prisoner  seeking  to  make  his  escape,  or 
resisting  the  process  of  arrest  and  imprisonment,  —  a  ne~ 
cessity  may  exist  for  the  resort  to  extreme  measures ;  and, 
in  such  a  case,  should  the  person  thus  resisting  be  killed 
by  the  officer,  in  the  attempt  to  discharge  his  duty,  the  act 
must  be  pronounced  justifiable. 

Palliating  Circumstances.  —  The  instances  to  which  1 
have  referred  may  be  regarded  as  cases  of  justifiable  homi¬ 
cide.  They  all  fall  under  the  law  of  self-protection,  or  the 
protection  of  society.  There  are  many  cases,  however, 
which  do  not  properly  fall  under  that  rule,  yet  where  the 


112 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 


circumstances  are  such  as,  while  they  do  not  justify,  at 
least  palliate,  in  some  measure,  the  guilt  of  homicide. 
Some  offence,  perhaps,  has  been  committed,  which  the  law 
either  takes  no  cognizance  of,  or  which  is  beyond  the 
power  of  law  adequately  to  redress.  The  provocation  is 
great,  the  injury  deeply  felt,  the  course  of  justice  slow  and 
uncertain,  and  even  at  the  best,  the  punishment  of  the 
offender,  provided,  by  some  defect  of  evidence  or  some 
quibble  of  the  law,  he  do  not  ultimately  escape  conviction 
altogether,  is  likely  to  be  small  in  comparison  with  the 
injury  committed.  The  temptation,  in  such  a  case,  is 
great  for  the  injured  man  to  take  the  law  into  his  own 
hands. 

There  may  be  cases  in  which  circumstances  shall  seem 
to  pallftite,  in  a  measure,  the  wrong  of  such  a  procedure; 
but  no  circumstances,  however  they  may  excuse,  can  jus¬ 
tify  the  taking  of  life  by  way  of  revenge,  or  redress  for 
wrong  committed,  whether  the  injury  be  to  the  person  or 
to  the  character  and  reputation  of  the  injured  party. 
Whatever  be  the  loss,  whatever  the  dishonor,  the  person 
injured  has  no  right  to  be  himself  the  judge  or  the  execu¬ 
tioner  of  justice.  He  has  no  right  to  touch  the  life  of  his 
enemy.  The  law  alone  has  that  right;  and  if  not  man,  yet 
God  is  just,  and  will  avenge  the  injured  and  the  innocent. 
Were  every  man,  when  wronged,  to  take  the  law  into  his 
own  hands,  and  become  his  own  avenger,  the  consequences 
to  society  would  be  disastrous  in  the  extreme. 

The  Duel .  —  There  is  a  form  of  homicide,  or  attempted 
homicide,  which  differs  from  any  other  form  of  assault 
with  intent  to  kill,  chiefly  in  the  fact  that  it  is  made  with 
the  knowledge  and  cooperation  of  the  party  assailed,  the 
attempt  being  mutual.  This  may  be  done  with  more  or 
less  of  previous  formality.  When  the  challenge  to  such 
an  encounter  is  previously  given  and  accepted,  and  the 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 


113 


combat  is  conducted  in  accordance  with  certain  rules 
acknowledged  in  such  cases,  it  is  termed  a  duel,  or  an 
affair  of  honor;  when  without  such  ceremony,  it  is  simply 
termed  a  hostile  encounter,  and  differs  little  from  chance- 
medley,  a  sudden  affray,  except  that  it  is  premeditated  by 
one  or  both  the  parties,  and  not  unfrequently  anticipated 
by  the  other.  In  either  case,  it  is  an  assault  with  the 
avowed  intent  to  kill,  with  more  or  less  of  premeditation 
and  mutual  consent. 

The  history  of  the  duel  is  not  to  be  overlooked  in  esti¬ 
mating  its  character.  It  is,  beyond  doubt,  a  very  ancient 
custom.  It  seems  to  have  originated  in  the  earlier  stages 
of  civilization,  among  rude  and  barbarous  nations,  of  war 
like  habits.  It  was  virtually  an  appeal  to  the  Supreme 
Ruler  of  men  and  events,  to  decide  the  uncertain  question 
of  right  or  wrong,  innocence  or  guilt,  between  the  con¬ 
tending  parties.  It  is  closely  analogous,  in  this  view,  to 
the  trial  by  ordeal,  and  the  judicial  combat.  Whatever 
apology  for  this  custom  may  have  been  found  in  those 
earlier  and  ruder  times,  wdien  law  was  a  less  efficient  pro¬ 
tector  of  the  right  and  of  human  life,  and  when  every 
man  was  under  the  necessity,  in  a  measure,  of  taking  his 
defence  into  his  own  hands,  no  such  apology  or  excuse  can 
ordinarily  be  urged  at  the  present  day.  It  is  a  relic  of 
barbarism,  utterly  unworthy  of  the  civilization  of  the  nine¬ 
teenth  century.  As  a  means  of  justice,  it  is  utterly  sense¬ 
less  and  absurd.  At  the  best,  it  is  an  equal  chance  which 
party  shall  prevail,  the  guilty  or  the  innocent.  Skill  in  the 
use  of  weapons  must  usually  decide  this;  and  the  skill  and 
the  strength  that  shall  give  advantage  in  the  combat  are 
quite  as  likely  to  be  on  the  side  of  the  wrong  as  of  the 
right.  To  speak  of  obtaining  satisfaction  by  submitting 
a  dispute  to  any  such  process,  is  simply  and  purely 
ridiculous. 


10* 


114 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 


In  one  respect,  the  duel  is  certainly  more  honorable  than 
secret  assassination,  or  some  other  forms  of  homicide,  inas¬ 
much  as  it  gives  the  assailed  party  warning,  and  an  oppor¬ 
tunity  for  defence.  Still  it  is,  when  not  a  mere  farce, 
intentional  murder,  and  is  accordingly  so  regarded  and 
treated  by  the  laws  of  nearly  all  civilized  nations.  No 
man  has  a  right  to  take  human  life  in  order  to  avenge  any 
real  or  supposed  personal  insult  or  injury;  nor  has  any  one 
a  right  to  expose  his  own  life,  in  this  manner,  to  the 
murderous  assault  of  a  foe. 

Suicide.  —  The  same  reasons  that  forbid  one  to  take  the 
life  of  his  fellow-man  forbid  him  to  take  his  own.  lie  has 
no  more  right  to  cut  short  his  own  life  than  that  of  another. 
Life  is  sacred  —  the  gift  of  the  Creator  —  a  treasure  which 
it  is  not  allowed  us  to  trifle  with,  which  we  cannot  confer, 
and  therefore  have  no  right  to  take  away.  Nor  is  it  a 
wrong  done  to  himself  alone,  when,  with  rash  hand,  a  man 
cuts  short  his  own  life.  Society  is  wronged.  Society  has  a 
claim  on  him  for  life,  and  labor,  and  valuable  service. 
There  are  those  dependent,  it  may  be,  on  his  care  and 
toil,  who  have  a  still  higher  claim  upon  him.  He  has  no 
right  to  desert  them  —  no  right  to  betray  his  trust,  and 
leave  those  who  are  dependent  on  him  to  struggle  alone 
with  misfortune  and  want.  It  is  his  duty,  rather,  to  stand 
up  like  a  true  man  under  the  heavy  pressure  of  whatever 
trials  and  calamities  may  befall  him,  manfully  bearing  the 
lot  of  life,  and  by  his  presence  and  example,  not  less  than 
his  toil,  helping  others  to  sustain  the  heavy  load. 

It  is  a  striking  instance  of  the  insufficiency  of  the  light 
of  nature  as  a  guide  to  duty,  that  among  the  ancients  sui¬ 
cide  was  regarded  as  not  merely  allowable,  but,  in  certain 
cases,  commendable;  and  was  resorted  to  by  some  among 
the  wisest  and  the  best  of  the  truly  great  men  of  that 
time,  as  an  escape  from  the  calamities  and  burdens  of  life. 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIFE. 


115 


It  rs  a  melancholy  spectacle  of  the  imperfection  of  human 
reason  and  the  human  conscience.  It  was  for  Christianity 
to  reveal  the  true  philosophy  of  human  life,  —  to  make 
known  the  sacredness  of  life,  as  such, —  to  teach  the  far  lof¬ 
tier  courage  and  heroism  of  patient  endurance, —  to  direct 
the  eye  of  the  desponding  sufferer  to  that  “  far  more  ex¬ 
ceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory”  for  which  the  pres¬ 
ent  sorrows  were  intended  to  prepare  him,  and  to  which 
they  are  the  necessary  avenue  of  approach.  It  bade 
him  run  with  patience  the  race  set  before  him,  fixing  his 
eye  upon  Him,  the  great  heroic  sufferer,  “  who  endured 
such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  himself;”  and  “who, 
for  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him,  endured  the  cross, 
despising  the  shame,  and  is  set  down  at  the  right  hand 
of  the  Majesty  on  High.” 

It  may  be  added,  that  the  reasons  already  urged  against 
suicide  apply  equally  to  any  course  of  conduct  by  which 
life  is  shortened,  or  its  energies  weakened.  No  man  has  a 
right  to  shorten  his  days,  or  impair  his  vital  energies,  by 
any  course  of  vicious  indulgence  or  excess.  This  is  only 
an  indirect  form  of  suicide.  Too  frequently  is  this  fatal 
error  committed  by  those  who,  in  the  heat  of  passion  or 
the  ardor  of  youth,  yield  to  the  impulses  of  the  sensitive 
nature,  regardless  of  consequences.  And  not  alone  by 
those  who  yield  to  the  dominion  of  the  lower  appetites  is 
this  guilt*  incurred.  In  the  pressure  of  business,  or  the 
ardor  of  intellectual  pursuits,  the  body  and  the  mind  may 
be,  and  too  frequently  are,  overtasked,  resulting  in  the  pre¬ 
mature  decay  of  the  vital  powers,  and  an  early  grave.  It 
is  not  by  direct  and  intentional  acts  alone  that  life  is  de¬ 
stroyed,  and  the  guilt  of  suicide  incurred. 

I  would  not  be  understood,  in  what  has  been  said,  to 
imply  that  life,  however  sacred,  is  to  be  preserved  at  all 
hazards.  There  are  other  interests  higher  and  dearer  than 


116 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


life  itself — interests  which  we  may  not  sacrifice  for  the 
sake  of  preserving  even  life.  Rather  than  betray  the  cause 
of  truth  and  right,  rather  than  desert  the  principles  of 
justice  and  honor,  and  prove  recreant  to  duty  and  to  faith, 
a  man  may  well  die.  In  defence  of  the  innocent  and  help¬ 
less,  in  defence  of  the  right,  in  defence  of  his  family  and 
his  country,  in  defence  of  his  religious  belief,  he  may  well 
lay  down  his  life,  if  need  be.  As  a  martyr,  as  a  patriot,  as 
a  lover  of  truth  and  justice,  there  may  be  occasion  to  die. 
Life  is  not  the  highest  duty  nor  the  most  sacred  treasure 
of  man. 


CHAPTER  II. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 

•  %  0  •  '  *  ' 

Liberty  a  Natural  Riy/it .  —  One  of  the  first  and  plain¬ 
est  natural  rights  of  man  is  the  right  to  himself,  —  that  is, 
to  liberty,  —  a  right  to  the  disposal  of  his  own  time  and 
industry  and  personal  movements  as  he  sees  fit,  within 
such  limits  as  the  rights  and  safety  of  others  allow.  That 
this  is  the  intention  of  nature,  is  evident  from  the  constitu¬ 
tion  of  man.  He  desires  liberty,  and  is  never  happy  when 
deprived  of  it.  lie  pines  for  it,  dreams  of  it,  toils  for  it, 
risks  everything  to  obtain  it.  To  deprive  him  of  this 
right,  without  due  cause,  is  to  inflict  upon  him  one  of  the 
greatest  wrongs.  There  is  nothing,  next  to  life  itself,  with 
which  a  man  will  not  sooner  part  than  his  Tberty. 

Modes  in  which  one  may  be  deprived  of  it. —  Of  this 
right  man  may  be  deprived  in  various  ways.  Sometimes 
it  is  justly  forfeited  by  his  own  conduct;  and  in  that  case, 
society  has  the  right  to  take  it  from  him.  Sometimes  he 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY.  117 


is  unjustly  deprived  of  it  by  the  violence  and  cupidity  of 
his  fellow-man. 

Imprisonment  for  Crime.  —  1.  Society  may  justly  de¬ 
prive  a  man  of  liberty  by  imprisonment  for  crime.  This 
the  law  has  a  right  to  do.  The  protection  and  safety  of 
the  community  require  it.  He  who  violates  the  rights  of 
others,  forfeits  his  own ;  and  the  principles  upon  which 
society  is  constituted  require  it,  as  a  measure  of  self- 
defence,  to  restrain  the  liberty  of  him  who  abuses  his  lib¬ 
erty  to  the  detriment  of  others.  It  may  justly  imprison 
him  for  trial;  and  after  trial  and  conviction,  it  may  justly 
imprison  him  for  punishment.  It  may  justly  require  of 
him,  while  thus  in  confinement  as  a  convict,  such  amount 
of  personal  labor  as  shall  at  least  be  sufficient  for  his  sup¬ 
port.  The  extent  and  mode  of  sucli  imprisonment  is  to 
be  determined  by  law.  When  it  is  protracted  beyond  due 
limit,  or  is  attended  with  unnecessary  severity,  —  when  the 
term  of  trial  is  needlessly  delayed,  or  when  a  degree  or 
mode  of  punishment  is  inflicted  beyond  what  the  nature 
of  the  offence  strictly  demands,  —  the  coercion  thus  exer¬ 
cised  become  unjust,  and  society  is  in  turn  the  aggressor. 

Confinement  of  the  Insane .  —  2.  For  the  reasons  already 
mentioned,  it  is  the  right  of  society  to  place  insane  per¬ 
sons  in  confinement,  provided  the  safety  of  their  families 
and  friends,  or  even  their  own  safety,  requires  such  restraint. 
It  is  a  measure  of  self-defence,  and  even  of  benevolence ; 
nor  is  any  wrong  inflicted  upon  the  sufferer  in  such  a  case, 
provided  the  deprivation  of  liberty  be  not  attended  with 
any  unnecessary  severity,  or  any  real  unkindness. 

Captivity  in  War. — 3.  Another  mode  in  which  one 
may  be  deprived  of  liberty,  is  by  captivity  in  war.  If 
war  itself  is  justifiable,  under  any  circumstances,  then  it  is 
allowable  for  the  victorious  party  to  make  such  disposal  of 
its  captives  taken  in  war  as  shall  prevent  them  from  tak 


118  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


ing  further  part  in  hostilities  against  itself.  This  can  be 
effectually  done,  perhaps,  only  by  imprisonment ;  and  this 
imprisonment  may  continue  until  the  close  of  hostilities, 
unless  previously  terminated  by  the  exchange  of  an  equal 
number  of  prisoners  taken  by  the  other  party.  Formerly, 
all  captives  taken  in  war  were  reduced  to  slavery.  This 
was  the  great  source  of  supply  of  slave  labor,  not  only  in 
Greece  and  Rome,  but  in  the  powerful  empires  of  earlier 
origin.  Homer,  and  the  Greek  tragedians,  represent  the 
lot  of  those  conquered  in  war,  and  also  of  their  wives  and 
children,  as  one  of  servile  and  hopeless  bondage.  Among 
civilized  nations,  this  mode  of  conducting  war  is  by  univer¬ 
sal  consent  abandoned. 

Involuntary  Servitude.  —  4.  Still  another  mode  in  which 
liberty  may  be  taken  away,  is  that  form  of  involuntary  ser¬ 
vitude  known  as  slavery.  As  this  is  a  matter  of  much  im¬ 
portance,  and  one  upon  the  morality  of  which  conflicting 
views  are  entertained  to  some  extent,  especially  in  our 
own  country,  it  seems  to  require  a  more  full  and  careful 
consideration.  It  will,  therefore,  constitute  the  principal 
topic  of  the  present  chapter.  It  will  be  to  the  purpose,  in 
the  first  place,  to  define  slavery ;  the  way  will  then  be  pre¬ 
pared  to  inquire  whether  slavery,  as  thus  defined,  is  a 
moral  wrong  ;  what  its  effects  are  upon  the  nation,  both 
as  respects  morals,  and  financial  prosperity;  and,  finally, 
what  arguments  may  be  adduced  in  favor  of  it.  Ihese 
topics,  in  their  order,  as  now  stated,  will  be  discussed  in 
the  following  sections. 


§  I. —  Slavery  Defined. 

When  the  right  of  personal  ownership  and  personal 
control,  that  properly  belong  to  a  man,  are  taken  from 
him,  for  no  fault  and  by  no  consent  of  his  own,  and  vested 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


119 


in  another,  giving  to  the  latter  control  over  the  person  and 
industry  of  the  former,  the  man  thus  subjected  becomes  a 
slave,  and  the  one  to  whom  lie  is  subjected  is  termed  the 
master.  I  say  for  no  fault,  and  by  no  consent  of  his  own, 
—  for  imprisonment  for  crime,  of  which  I  have  already 
spoken,  is  not  slavery,  though  it  may  be  accompanied  with 
some  degree  of  involuntary  service;  there  is  control ,  but 
not  ownership ; — nor  are  we  at  present  concerned  with 
voluntary  servitude,  in  any  of  its  forms.  Slavery,  as  now 
understood,  —  that  is,  as  an  actually  existing  institution, — - 
always  implies  ownership  on  the  part  of  the  master,  and 
involuntary  servitude  on  the  part  of  the  slave. 

This  ownership  is  complete,  and,  to  a  great  extent,  irre¬ 
sponsible.  The  slave  is  in  the  same  category  with  any 
other  property  or  possession  —  as  truly  the  property  of  the 
master  as  the  horses  or  dogs  that  belong  to  the  same 
plantation.  The  control  of  the  master  over  the  one  is  as 
complete,  unlimited,  and  irresponsible,  as  his  control  over 
the  other.  His  time,  his  labor,  his  acquisitions,  his  person, 
his  children,  are  not  his  own,  but  his  master’s.  He  is  to 
be  bought,  and  sold,  and  worked,  and  whipped,  at  the  mas¬ 
ter’s  pleasure.  He  has  no  rights  of  his  own . 

Slave  Laics  accord  with  this  Definition.  —  This  is  the 
character  of  complete  slavery,  as  recognized  by  the  laws 
of  other  nations,  as  well  as  our  own.  “  Slaves,”  says 
Gains,  the  distinguished  Roman  jurist,  “are  in  the  power 
of  the  masters.  Which  power,  indeed,  is  one  recognized 
by  the  laws  of  nations ;  for  among  all  nations,  it  is  to  be 
observed,  that  the  power  of  the  master  over  the  slave  has 
been  the  power  of  life  and  death,  and  whatever  is  acquired 
by  the  slave,  is  acquired  by  the  master.”  This  we  know 
to  have  been  not  only  Roman  law,  but  Roman  custom. 
The  slave  had  neither  security  of  life,  nor  property  in  any- 


120 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


thing  he  might  acquire.  He  belonged  to  another,  and  not; 
to  himself.  , .  _ . . 

The  institution  of  modern  slavery  is  based  on  the  same 
principles.  The  slave  is  the  property  of  the  master,  and 
has  no  right  to  himself.  The  laws  of  different  states  vary, 
but  the  principles  of  the  system  are  essentially  the  same  in 
all.  According  to  the  code  of  Louisiana,  “The  slave  is  in 
the  power  of  the  master  to  whom  he  belongs.  The  mas¬ 
ter  may  sell  him,  dispose  of  his  person,  his  industry,  his 
labor ;  he  can  do  nothing,  possess  nothing,  nor  acquire 
anything,  but  which  must  belong  to  his  master.”  Accord¬ 
ing  to  the  laws  of  South  Carolina,  “  Slaves  shall  be  deemed, 
taken,  reported,  and  adjudged  to  be  chattels  personal  in 
the  hands  of  their  masters,  and  possessions  to  all  intents 
and  purposes  whatever.” 

These,  then,  I  take  to  be  the  essential  elements  of  slav¬ 
ery —  viz.,  ownership,  property,  absolute  control.  Where 
these  exist,  there  is  slavery. 

Limitations  of  Power.  —  Certain  limitations  of  the 
power  of  the  master,  may  or  may  not  exist  in  the  differ¬ 
ent  states,  according  as  the  slave  code  may  be  more  or  less 
strict.  In  some  cases,  the  master  is  forbidden  to  put  his 
slave  to  death,  or  treat  him  with  unnecessary  cruelty. 
Practically,  such  a  limitation  amounts  to  little,  when  it  is 

remembered  that  the  testimonv  of  the  slave  is  not  admit- 

•/ 

ted  on  evidence  in  the  courts  of  law,  and  also  that  it  is 
for  the  interest  of  the  masters  to  sustain  each  other  in  the 
exercise  of  discipline  and  authority  over  the  slaves.  It 
must  in  the  nature  of  the  case  be  extremely  difficult,  if 
not  impossible,  under  such  circumstances,  to  obtain  clear 
and  satisfactory  evidence  of  cruelty  on  the  part  of  the 
master,  and  equally  difficult  to  secure  the  impartial  admin¬ 
istration  of  justice,  even  in  cases  of  notorious  violation  of 
the  law  in  question,  where  the  interests  of  both  judge  and 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


121 


/ 

jury  so  clearly  identify  them  with  the  offending  party,  and 
where  the  safety  and  permanent  existence  of  the  system 
is  seen  to  depend  on  firmly  sustaining  the  power  and  au- 
thority  of  the  master  over  his  slaves. 

But,  even  if  such  limitations  could  be,  as  they  cannot 
be,  practically  carried  out  and  enforced,  they  do  not 
change  the  essential  character  of  slavery,  as  already  de¬ 
fined.  They  do  not  make  the  master  less  an  owner,  or 
the  slave  less  property  or  a  chattel.  They  do  not  invest 
him  with  any  rights .  They  are  merely  a  concession  to 
the  natural  feelings  of  humanity.  They  are  of  the  same 
nature,  as  Whewell  well  remarks,  with  “the  English  laws 
against  cruelty  to  animals.  It  is  now  penal  in  this  coun¬ 
try  to  torture  a  horse  or  a  dog ;  but  a  horse  or  a  dog  are 
still  only  objects  of  possession,  without  any  rights,  or  any 
acknowledged  moral  nature.” 

(  T  -  --  .  '  •* 

*  *  f*  —  ■  r-  •  '  .  -  *  -  »  *  r\  *  *  .•  a 

§  II.  —  Slavery,  as  thus  Defined,  a  Moral  Wrong. 

It  can  hardly  admit  of  serious  question  that  slavery,  as 
thus  defined,  involves  a  moral  wrong.  In  the  strong  lan¬ 
guage  of  Whewell,  it  is  “  contrary  to  the  fundamental 
principles  of  morality.”  It  is  a  wrong,  inasmuch  as,  1.  It 
violates  the  natural  rights  of  man.  It  reduces  him  from 
a  person  to  a  thing  —  than  which  no  greater  wrong  can  be 
inflicted  on  humanity.  The  victim  of  this  injustice  is  no 
longer,  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  a  man;  he  has  become  a 
mere  thing,  has  no  rights,  and,  consequently,  can  suffer  no 
wrong.  He  stands  on  a  level  with  the  brute.  He  has 
his  pleasures  and  his  pains ;  so  has  the  brute.  He  has 
his  natural  impulses  and  desires ;  the  brute  also  has  his. 
The  strong  affections,  the  tumultuous  passions  of  our  na¬ 
ture,  that  agitate  the  bosoms  of  other  men,  stir  also  in 
his ;  they  have  their  counterpart,  also,  to  some  extent,  in 

11 


122 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


the  affections  and  passions  of  the  brute.  Nor,  in  the  eye 
of  the  state,  are  these  feelings  of  any  more  value  and  con¬ 
sequence  in  the  one  case  than  in  the  other.  With  all 
their  natural  instincts,  thoughts,  feelings,  passions,  affec¬ 
tions,  they  are  both,  the  man  and  the  brute,  and  the  one 
equally  with  the  other,  the  property  of  the  master. 

Yet  this  creature,  this  thing,  has  that  which  the  brute 
has  not  —  a  rational  and  moral  nature ;  and  no  man,  no 
society  of  men,  nor  any  human  legislation,  has  the  right 
to  deprive  him  of  it.  The  law  that  does  this,  or  attempts 
to  do  it,  is  a  laic  icithout  a  right .  To  treat  a  rational, 
moral  being  as  if  he  were  an  irrational  and  irresponsible 
creature,  —  a  man  as  if  he  were  a  brute,  —  is  to  inflict  the 
highest  indignity  and  injustice  which  human  nature  is 
capable  of  receiving. 

So  palpable  is  this,  that  even  the  Roman  jurists  admit 
that  no  man  is  a  slave  by  nature. 

Another  Element  of  Injustice.  —  2.  Slavery  is  a  wrong, 
inasmuch  as  it  not  only  deprives  the  slave  of  his  natural 
right  of  self-disposal  and  control,  but  subjects  him  to  the 
lawless  will  of  a  master .  Irresponsible  power  is  a  dan¬ 
gerous  thing.  It  is  never  safe  to  trust  any  man  with  it, 
however  humane  and  well-disposed.  There  is  in  the  hu¬ 
man  bosom,  implanted  among  its  native  elements,  a  love 
of  power  —  power  over  whatever  lies  about  us  —  power 
over  our  fellow-men  especially,  as  being  the  most  difficult 
of  control,  and  affording  therefore,  when  brought  under 
subjection,  a  higher  sense  of  pleasure,  amounting  to  a  sort 
of  triumph.  The  man  who  can  command  his  fellow-man, 
feels  his  own  superiority  much  more  than  he  who  can 
exercise  his  authority  only  over  the  lower  orders  of  crea¬ 
tion.  Now,  whenever  this  power  becomes  complete  and 
unlimited ;  when  its  word  is  law,  and  must  be  obeyed ; 
when  it  becomes  the  power  of  absolute  ownership;  when 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


123 


the  being  who  is  subject  to  it  has  no  will  nor  voice  of  his 
own,  no  mode  of  redress,  no  rights ;  when  he  is  the  mere 
property  of  another;  when  he  and  all  that  is  his  —  the  body 
with  all  its  organs  and  powers,  the  mind  with  all  its  facul¬ 
ties  of  action  and  capacities  for  enjoyment  and  suffering,  the 
friends  that  may  gather  around  him,  the  wife  and  children 
that  may  cling  to  him  as  their  natural  protector  —  all,  all 
are  entirely  at  the  disposal  of  another,  in  the  power  of  a 
master,  and  that  power,  for  the  most  part,  and  to  all  prac¬ 
tical  purposes,  unlimited  and  irresponsible  to  any  earthly 
tribunal,  —  who  will  say  that  such  power  as  this  can  safely 
be  confided  to  any  man  over  his  fellow-man  ?  Who  will 
say  there  is  no  risk  in  all  this  —  no  danger  that  a  power  so 
far-reaching  and  absolute  and  fearful  may  be  abused  ? 

The  True  Question.  —  Now,  it  is  precisely  this  risk,  this 
danger  of  abuse,  this  almost  certainty  that,  in  many  cases 
at  least,  the  power  in  question  vnll  be  abused,  that  consth 
tutes  in  no  small  degree  the  guilt  of  the  entire  system. 
It  is  no  answer  to  say,  that  in  many  cases  the  power  is 
not  abused.  Undoubtedly  this  is  true.  Unquestionably 
many  masters  are  kind  and  humane.  That  is  not  the 
point.  Even  if  it  could  be  shown  that  the  great  majority 
are  so,  —  that  kindness  is  the  rule,  and  cruelty  the  excep¬ 
tion*  —  ^  would  not  in  the  least  affect  the  present  argu¬ 
ment.  It  is  precisely  these  exceptions,  liable  at  any  mo¬ 
ment  and  anywhere  to  occur,  impossible  of  prevention 
it  is  this  liability  to  abuse  that  constitutes  one  of  the 
most  appalling  features  of  the  system.  Is  there  no  wron° 
in  subjecting  a  man  endowed  by  the  Creator  with  all  the 
lights  and  privileges  of  humanity,  possessing  a  rational, 
spiritual  nature  that  places  him,  however  degraded  he  may 
be,  at  an  infinite  remove  from  the  beasts  that  perish  — 


.  ble  being  to  a  servitude  worse  even  than  that  of  the 


124 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


brutes  by  so  much  as  his  nature  is  superior  to  theirs? 
Is  there  no  wrong  in  subjecting  him  to  a  power  which 
may  be  at  any  moment  and  to  any  degree  abused,  and 
against  the  abuse  of  which  lie  has  no  safeguard,  no  pro¬ 
tection,  no  mode  of  redress  ? 

A  Third  Element .  —  3.  Slavery  is  a  wrong,  inasmuch 
as  it  deprives  the  slave  of  that  intellectual ,  moral ,  and 
religious  culture  which  is  his  right .  It  is  essential  to 
slavery,  as  a  system,  that  the  slave  be  kept  in  ignorance. 
Any  considerable  amount  of  instruction  would  prove  fatal 
to  the  perpetuity  of  the  system.  If  the  slave  were  once 
to  know  what  are  his  rights,  and  in  what  manner  it  would 
be  possible  to  regain  them,  it  is  obvious  that  he  would 
no  longer  rest  passive  under  the  weight  that  is  crushing 
him  to  the  earth.  He  must  not  have  access,  then,  to  the 
thoughts  that  are  stirring  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  race 
to  which  he  belongs.  He  must  be  shut  up  in  a  night  of 
deepest  intellectual  and  moral  darkness.  It  were  not  safe 
even  that  he  should  know  so  much  as  to  be  able  to  read 
and  write.  To  some  extent,  oral  religious  instruction 
might  perhaps  be  safely  imparted ;  but  even  this  must  be 
kept  fully  within  the  control  of  the  master.  It  would  be 
inconvenient,  for  example,  should  the  conscience  of  the 
slave,  by  reason  of  religious  training,  interpose  itself  as  a 
barrier  to  the  absolute  will  and  caprice  of  the  master. 
Xor  would  it  be  by  any  means  expedient  to  place  the 

i 

Bible,  without  note  or  comment,  in  the  hands  of  a  slave 
capable  of  reading  and  understanding  its  pages.  That 
book  which  has  proved  the  great  instrument  of  freedom, 
civil  and  religious,  in  the  history  of  the  world,  —  the 
magna  charta  of  human  rights, — might  teach  him  truths 
which,  as  a  slave,  it  were  better  he  should  not  know; 
might  teach  him  that  God  has  made  of  one  blood  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth;  that  to  one  and  the  same  God 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


125 


master  and  slave  stand  alike  responsible  for  the  things  done 
in  the  flesh,  and  that  this  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons. 

Actual  Policy  of  the  System . —  AVe  find,  accordingly, 
that  the  actual  policy  of  the  system  is  to  keep  the  slave 
as  much  as  possible  in  ignorance.  To  teach  him  to  read 
or  write  is  made,  in  many  of  the  slave  states,  an  offence 
punishable  with  fine  and  imprisonment;  while  to  place 
in  his  hands  any  document  containing  information  calcu¬ 
lated  to  make  him  discontented  with  his  servitude,  is 
thought  worthy  of  the  most  severe  and  summary  punish¬ 
ment. 

Need  it  be  said  that  this  is  a  moral  wrong?  Is  not 
mental  and  moral  culture  the  right  of  every  human  being 
endowed  by  nature  with  an  intelligent  and  rational  soul  — 
of  every  being  made  in  the  image  of  his  God,  made  moral 
and  accountable?  Is  not  the  revealed  will  of  God  the 
birthright  of  every  child  of  Adam  —  of  every  fallen,  ruined 
being  for  whom  Christ  has  died  ?  Have  I  any  right,  for 
purposes  of  my  own  convenience  or  profit,  to  deprive 
him  of  this  ?  Does  the  system  into  whose  very  founda¬ 
tion  such  a  prohibition  enters,  and  which  could  not  exist 
for  a  day  without  it,  involve  no  moral  wrong? 

Essential ’,  as  distinguished  from  Incidental  Wrongs.  — 
In  discussing  the  moral  character  of  this  institution,  I 
have  spoken  only  of  those  evils  which  seem  inseparable 
from  any  system  of  complete  slavery.  Of  those  wrongs 
which  are  incidental  to  the  system,  as  it  exists  in  this  or 
in  other  countries,  and  which  constitute  the  worst  features, 
in  many  respects,  of  such  a  system,  —  as,  e.  g .,  the  separa¬ 
tion  of  families  by  sale,  the  disregard  of  the  marriage  tie, 
the  nameless  and  shocking  barbarities  which  are  of  too 
frequent  occurrence  wherever  slavery  exists,  — I  purposely 
forbear  to  speak  in  this  connection.  I  can  conceive  of  a 

11* 


126  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


system  of  servitude  that  should  dispense  with  the  shame 
and  guilt  of  these  peculiar  features,  that  should  be  free 
from  the  odium  of  such  vices  and  barbarities  ;  but  I  can¬ 
not  conceive  of  any  form  or  system  of  complete  slavery 
that  shall  be  free  from  the  wrongs  which  have  been  dis- 

CD 

cussed  in  the  present  section.  Wherever  there  is  owner¬ 
ship  and  property  in  man,  and  that  entire  control  and 
disposal  of  his  person,  faculties,  and  services,  which  such 
ownership  implies,  there  are,  and  must  be,  and  always  wrill 
be,  as  the  legitimate  and  inevitable  consequence,  the 
wrongs  of  which  I  have  spoken,  viz.,  the  violation  of  the 
natural  rights  of  man,  by  reducing  him  from  the  condition 
of  a  person  to  the  condition  of  a  thing;  by  subjecting  him 
to  the  irresponsible,  lawless  will  of  a  master,  with  the 
imminent  danger  that  that  power  will  be  abused,  and  with 
no  protection  against  such  abuse,  nor  redress  from  any 
wrong  or  outrage  that  may  be  inflicted ;  and,  finally,  by 
shutting  him  up  in  more  or  less  complete  ignorance  and 
darkness — depriving  him  of  that  mental  and  moral  culture 
which  is  his  right.  And,  in  view  of  these  necessary  and 
essential  features  of  any  and  all  systems  of  complete 
slavery,  I  cannot  but  pronounce  any  and  every  such 
system  a  grievous  wrong  in  morals. 

# 

§  III.  —  Effect  of  Slavery  on  the  National  Morals  and  the 

National  Wealth. 

In  order  to  a  fair  and  just  appreciation  of  the  real 
character  of  any  system,  we  must  observe  its  effects,  its 
practical  working,  and  the  consequences  that  actually  flow 
from  it.  It  is  not  enough  to  reason  a  priori  as  to  what 
the  moral  character  of  slavery  must  be.  It  is  necessary  to 
verify  such  reasonings  by  actual  observation.  If  the  effects 
are  disastrous,  the  system  itself  cannot  be  right.  The 


127 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 

tree  must  be  judged  by  its  fruits.  There  are  two  points 
of  view  from  which  the  system  now  under  consideration 
may  well  be  regarded  in  its  actual  working,  viz.,  its  effect 
on  the  morals,  and  on  the  financial  prosperity,  of  the 
state. 

I.  On  Morals.  —  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the 
arrangement  which  places  one  man,  or  a  considerable 
number  of  men,  at  the  entire  disposal  and  control  of 
another,  subject  to  his  absolute  and  irresponsible  will  and 
power,  is  a  system  of  things  not  the  most  favorable  to 
moral  excellence,  whether  of  the  master  or  the  servant. 
The  exercise  of  such  authority  must,  in  the  nature  of  the 
case,  tend  to  foster  a  spirit  of  pride  and  arrogance  —  to 
make  a  man  overbearing  and  haughty  in  temper,  quick 
and  irascible,  impatient  of  restraint  and  contradiction. 
The  passions  of  our  nature,  the  animal  propensities,  ever 
ready  to  assume  the  mastery,  and  requiring  to  be  kept 
in  check  with  firm  hand,  finding  now  no  barriers  to  their 
indulgence  but  those  which  are  self-imposed,  will  be  likely 
to  break  over  those  feeble  barriers,  and  acquire  unre¬ 
strained  course  and  dominion.  The  tendency  of  the 
system  to  these  results  in  morals,  so  far  as  the  master  is 
concerned,  is  inevitable.  Many  and  honorable  exceptions 
there  will  be ;  but  the  tendency  is  still  the  same.  It  must 
be  so  while  human  nature  is  what  it  is.  The  temptation 
to  abuse  of  power  over  those  who  cannot  or  dare  not 
resist,  —  to  undue  severity  of  punishment,  where  the  pas¬ 
sions  of  the  master  are  roused,  and  there  is  none  to  say 
what  doest  thou,  —  to  the  gratification  of  the  baser  appe¬ 
tites  in  their  various  forms,  —  must  be  too  great  for  ordi¬ 
nary  and  unaided  human  virtue.  The  tendency  of  such  a 
system  must  ever  be,  not  to  progressive  refinement  and 
moral  culture,  but  to  barbarism.  We  should  expect  to 
find  in  connection  with  such  a  civil  polity,  a  state  of 


128  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


society  and  of  morals  somewhat  peculiar,  —  acts  of  vio¬ 
lence  and  barbarity  not  infrequent,  the  street  affray,  the 
duel,  the  murderous  assault,  the  unrestrained  indulgence 
of  the  animal  appetites.  This  it  would  be  reasonable  to 
expect ;  and  this,  unless  all  history  is  false,  we  do  find,  the 
world  over,  to  be  the  general  state  and  tendency  of  things 
where  the  system  of  slavery  prevails. 

Effect  on  the  /Slave . —  Nor  is  the  effect  on  the  morals  of 
the  slave  more  favorable;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  even  more 
disastrous.  In  proportion  as  the  feeling  of  self-respect  and 
self-dependence  is  taken  away,  and  a  man  is  taught  to 
look  upon  himself  as  merely  the  tool  in  the  hands  of 
another,  the  instrument  of  another’s  will  and  pleasure, 
without  responsibility  of  his  own,  just  in  that  proportion 
the  foundation  of  moral  character  is  undermined.  Noth¬ 
ing  can  be  more  demoralizing  in  its  effect  upon  the  char¬ 
acter.  Strip  a  man  of  all  that  constitutes  manhood,  —  of 
all  self-reliance  and  self-respect,  of  all  the  rights  which 
nature  has  conferred  upon  him,  and  all  the  faculties  with 
which  the  Creator  has  endowed  him ;  take  away  from  him 
all  control  and  disposal  of  himself,  all  ownership  of  him¬ 
self,  —  and  all  that  can  stimulate  to  activity,  and  incite  to 
noble  attainment  and  excellence,  is  gone  at  once.  He 
sinks  down  to  the  level  of  the  brute.  What  inducement 
is  there  for  him  to  hope  or  strive  for  anything  other  or 
better  than  his  present  lot,  and  the  enjoyment  which  the 
moment  may  bring  with  it  ?  He  becomes,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  improvident  and  reckless,  content  with  the  gratifi¬ 
cation,  so  far  as  may  be,  of  his  merely  animal  appetites; 
indolent  —  for  why  should  he  be  otherwise  ?  deceptive  and 
dishonest  —  for  what  motive  has  he  to  honesty?  governed 
only  by  fear  of  the  lash,  with  little  thought  of  anything 
future,  with  little  knowledge  of  that  hereafter  whence  are 
derived  the  most  powerful  motives  to  present  virtue.  His 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


129 


mind  shrouded  in  ignorance,  his  moral  nature  almost 
wholly  uncultivated,  his  condition  is  little  above  that  of 
the  beast  with  whom  he  toils,  and  with  whom  he  perishes. 

Exceptions  there  may  be,  many  and  remarkable,  to  this 
general  law.  As  in  the  case  of  the  master,  so  in  the  case 
of  the  slave  ;  some  will  rise  above  the  influences  that  sur¬ 
round  and  drag  them  down,  and,  in  spite  of  all  these 
depressing  and  demoralizing  influences,  will  maintain  their 
integrity.  But  such  is  not  the  rule,  such  is  not  the  ten¬ 
dency  of  the  system.  No  one  who  has  either  reflected  on 
the  matter,  or  observed  the  actual  working  of  the  system, 
can  honestly  suppose  that  it  is.  It  is  a  notorious  fact,  that, 
as  a  general  rule,  wherever  this  system  exists,  the  slave 
is  indolent,  deceitful,  dishonest,  improvident,  —  not  to  be 
trusted  away  from  the  eye  of  his  master.  Can  that  be  a 
right  system  which  produces  such  effects  on  those  whom 
it  most  directly  concerns  ? 

II.  Effect  on  the  National  Wealth .  —  It  can  hardly  ad¬ 
mit  of  question  that  slavery  tends  greatly  to  impoverish 
a  country.  It  exhausts  the  resources  of  the  most  fertile 
soil,  and  seeks  ever  new  and  unexhausted  territories  on 
which  to  plant  itself.  From  these,  again,  it  must  in  turn 
migrate,  if  it  would  thrive.  W e  have  only  to  compare 
the  slave  and  the  free  state,  lying  side  by  side,  in  our 
own  country,  alike  in  climate,  soil,  and  productions,  —  the 
same  mountains  and  rivers  and  skies  common  to  both,  — 
the  same  constitution  encircling,  and  the  same  flag  float¬ 
ing  over  them;  —  we  have  but  to  mark  the  thrift  and 
enterprise  and  accumulating  capital  of  the  one,  and  the 
comparative  stagnation  and  poverty  of  the  other,  —  the 
crowded  streets,  the  busy  industry,  the  numerous  pop¬ 
ulation  of  the  one,  the  sparsely  settled  condition  and 
neglected  aspect  of  the  other,  —  to  be  satisfied  on  which 


180 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


side  of  the  dividing  line  that  separates  freedom  from  ser¬ 
vitude  the  sources  of  prosperity  lie. 

Nor  is  it  difficult  to  perceive  why  it  should  be  so.  In 
the  states  where  servitude  is  the  established  institution 
and  order  of  things,  labor  becomes  disgraceful ;  in  the 
free  state,  industry  and  honest  toil  are  honored  and 
rewarded ;  and  all  classes  of  citizens  labor,  each  in  his 
own  way  and  at  his  own  employment.  The  difference  is 
that  which  always  holds,  by  the  laws  of  nature,  between 
idleness  and  industry, —  viz.,  poverty  and  wealth.  It  is 
an  essential  principle,  moreover,  in  political  economy,  that 
in  order  to  the  most  efficient  and  productive  labor,  a  man 
must  have  some  personal  interest  in  that  on  which  he 
labors,  else  the  highest  incentive  to  effort  will  be  want¬ 
ing.  This  is  precisely  what  is  and  must  be  ever  wanting 
in  any  system  of  involuntary  servitude.  He  who  labors 
not  for  himself,  but  for  another,  and  whose  chief  motive 
to  effort  is  the  fear  of  the  lash  rather  than  any  hope  of 
reward,  is  not  likely  to  be  the  most  industrious  or  profit¬ 
able  of  servants.  The  system  which  depends  on  such 
labor,  violates  the  fundamental  laws  of  nature,  and  cannot 
prosper. 


§  IY.  —  Arguments  in  Favor  of  Slavery. 

It  is  not  enough,  in  the  consideration  of  a  matter  so 
important  as  the  present,  in  its  bearings  on  the  happiness 
and  welfare  of  the  race,  to  look  merely  at  one  side  of  the 
question,  without  inquiring  what  may  be  said  on  the  other. 
The  result  of  our  inquiries  thus  far  has  been  adverse  to 
the  system  in  question  :  it  is  no  more  than  fair  to  consider 
the  arguments  in  favor  of  the  system. 

Defended  on  the  ground  of  Family  Government .  — 
Some  writers  place  the  matter  on  the  ground  of  family 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


131 


government,  and  defend  it  on  that  ground  as  right  and  to 
be  justified,  when  the  authority  thus  exercised  seeks,  as  in 
the  government  of  the  family,  the  best  good  of  the  gov¬ 
erned,  and  is  administered  solely  with  a  view  to  that  end. 

To  this  it  may  be  replied,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
supposition  now  made  by  no  means  holds  good  of  the  sys¬ 
tem  as  a  whole.  It  is  not  true  that  slavery,  as  it  actually 
exists  in  the  world,  or  ever  has  existed  in  its  true  and 
complete  form,  is  a  system  the  real  design  and  aim  of 
which  is  the  welfare  and  highest  good  of  the  slave.  Hu¬ 
mane  and  pious  masters  there  doubtless  are,  and  have 
been  in  all  periods  of  the  world’s  history,  who  have  sought 
to  make  their  power  consistent,  so  far  as  possible,  with 
the  welfare  of  their  slaves.  They  have  not  been  unmind¬ 
ful  of  the  good  of  the  governed.  But  that,  even  in  such 
cases,  the  welfare  of  the  slave  has  been  the  direct  aim  and 
end  of  the  institution,  the  thing  for  which  it  exists,  rather 
than  merely  an  incidental  benefit  secured  in  spite  of  all 
the  opposite  tendencies  and  natural  results  of  the  system, 
no  one,  I  think,  can  intelligently  maintain;  much  less  that 
such  is  the  real  end  and  object  of  the  system  as  a  whole. 
Everybody  knows  that  the  end  aimed  at  in  the  institution 
of  slavery  is  not  the  good  of  the  slave  himself,  but  the 
gain  of  the  master;  and  to  assert  the  contrary  is  simply 
absurd.  If  any  one  were  to  assert  that  the  efforts  now 
making,  by  government,  and  individuals,  to  introduce  and 
domesticate  the  camel  in  this  country,  were  prompted  by 
a  simple  and  pure  regard  to  the  comfort  and  happiness  of 
that  valuable  animal,  we  should  esteem  him  as  a  person 
of  humane  disposition,  but  somewhat  weak  in  understand¬ 
ing.  Were  we  to  cite,  in  confirmation  of  this  theory,  the 
law^s  which  prohibit  cruelty  to  animals,  and  the  many  in¬ 
stances  in  which  camels  have  been  well  treated,  we  should, 
while  gratified  to  learn  these  facts,  hardly  regard  them  as 


122  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 

establishing  the  point  in  question.  That  the  system  of 
involuntary  servitude,  which  reduces  man  from  the  condi¬ 
tion  of  a  person  to  that  of  a  thing,  makes  him  a  mere  piece 
of  property,  like  a  horse  or  a  dog,  takes  away  from  him  all 
power  of  self-direction,  and  makes  him  subject  to  the 
lawless  and  irresponsible  will  of  a  master  —  that  this 
system,  so  repugnant  to  all  natural  ideas  of  right  and 
justice,  has  any  claim  to  be  regarded  as  an  eleemosynary 
institution ,  designed  to  promote  the  highest  good  of  the 
slave,  remains  to  be  proved.  ' 

*  ’  *  K 

Further  Reply . —  The  argument  rests,  moreover,  on  the 
assumption  that  the  slave  is  not  capable  of  self-govern¬ 
ment, —  which  has  never  been  shown  to  be  true,  but 
which,  on  the  contrary,  facts  seem  to  contradict,  —  and 
that,  consequently,  inasmuch  as  lie  is  not  capable  of  own¬ 
ing,  directing,  and  governing  himself,  the  master  has  the 
right  of  owning  and  governing  him,  —  which  by  no  means 
follows.  Is  the  slave  unfit  to  be  his  own  master?  And, 
even  if  he  is,  does  that  give  me  as  an  individual  the 
right  to  govern  him  ?  How  came  he  into  that  relation 
to  me,  and  I  to  him,  that  places  him  in  my  power,  and 
gives  me  the  authority  to  govern  him  ?  Have  I  really 
any  right  to  sustain  that  relation  to  any  of  my  fellow- 
beings  ?  Granted  :  that  this  man,  left  to  himself,  might 
not  order  his  affairs  so  wisely  and  so  well  as  I  could  order 
them  for  him  —  what  then?  Does  it  follow  that  I  have 
the  right  to  take  out  of  his  hands  the  ownership  and  con¬ 
trol  of  himself,  and  make  him  my  property? 

Argument  from  Inferiority .  —  The  ground  on  which 
the  defence  of  the  system  is  more  frequently  placed,  is 
that  the  negro  is  by  nature  inferior  to  the  white  race. 
His  proper  position  in  the  scale  of  being,  that  for  which 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY.  133 


nature  evidently  intended  him,  is  the  condition  of  servi¬ 
tude.  We  are  depriving  him,  therefore,  of  no  right  when 
we  subject  him  to  bondage.  This  argument  is  invalid  in 
its  premises,  and  false  in  its  conclusion.  It  is  not  true 
that  the  negro  is  by  nature  —  whatever  he  may  be  by  the 
circumstances  of  his  position  —  essentially  inferior  to  the 
white  race.  Facts  prove  the  contrary.  Placed  under 
influences  equally  favorable  for  mental  and  moral  devel¬ 
opment,  with  equal  advantages  and  equal  inducements, 
he  has  uniformly  shown  himself  capable  of  equal  attain¬ 
ments.  He  is  endowed  by  nature  with  the  same  mental 
and  moral  faculties  that  belong  to  other  men  ;  and  those 
faculties  are  susceptible  of  the  same  culture.  He  has  the 
same  affections  and  passions  with  other  men ;  the  same 
sense  of  right  and  justice,  the  same  moral  nature.  The 
very  laws  which  forbid  the  teaching  of  slaves  to  read  and 
write,  are  of  themselves  a  sufflcient  contradiction  of  the 
theory  of  his  native  inferiority. 

But,  even  if  it  were  as  now  assumed,  could  it  be  shown 
that  the  negro  is  inferior  by  nature  to  the  Caucasian  race, 
it  is  by  no  means  a  legitimate  conclusion  that  the  Cau¬ 
casian  is  for  that  reason  entitled  to  reduce  the  former  to 
bondage.  The  very  fact  of  inferiority,  if  it  be  a  fact,  con¬ 
stitutes  a  reason,  not  for  reducing  him  to  a  still  deeper  and 
more  deplorable  degradation,  but  for  elevating  him  to  a 
higher  and  better  condition.  It  is  a  circumstance  which 
calls  not  for  severe  measures,  and  the  wresting  from  him 
in  his  feebleness  and  ignorance  what  light  and  what 
strength  he  has,  but  rather  for  compassion  and  gentleness ; 
it  is  a  reason,  not  for  making  him  my  property,  and  de¬ 
priving  him  of  all  ownership  and  control  of  himself,  not 
for  making  him  a  mere  chattel,  a  thing  to  be  used  and 
abused  at  my  pleasure,  but  rather  for  instructing  and  ele¬ 
vating  him  to  something  higher  and  better  than  he  is. 

12 


134 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


Besides,  the  question  naturally  arises,  IIow  ccnne  he  to 
be  thus  inferior  ?  Viewed  in  its  present  condition,  under 
all  the  depressing  influences  of  a  state  of  hopeless  servi¬ 
tude,  the  slave  population  may  well  be  supposed  inferior 
in  many  respects,  both  mentally  and  morally,  to  the  dom¬ 
inant  white  race.  But  how  came  it  to  be  so  ?  Is  it  cause, 
or  consequence  ?  Does  the  condition  of  servitude  result 
from  the  perceived  inferiority,  or  the  perceived  inferiority 
from  the  condition  of  servitude  ?  If  by  force  or  fraud  I 
succeed  in  catching  a  man  and  putting  out  his  eyes,  that 
surely  will  not  entitle  me  to  make  him  my  slave  after  that, 
because  he  is  blind  !  The  question  would  be  asked,  What 
occasioned  that  blindness? 

Argument  from  Scripture.  —  The  position  which  the 
advocates  of  slavery  often  assume,  and  of  late  more  fre¬ 
quently  than  formerly,  is  that  the  Bible  recognizes  and 
sustains  slaverg.  If  this  be  so,  it  is  certainly  a  strong  pre¬ 
sumption  in  its  favor,  and  will  go  far  to  weaken  and  impair, 
if  not  altogether  to  set  aside,  many  of  the  arguments 
already  presented.  It  requires,  therefore,  a  careful  and 
candid  consideration. 

That  slavery  is  recognized  in  the  Scriptures,  both  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testament,  is  evident;  that  it  is  not  ex¬ 
pressly  and  directly  condemned  or  prohibited  in  either,  may 
also  be  admitted  ;  that  it  is  justified,  either  by  the  spirit,  or 
precepts,  of  the  sacred  writings,  is  not  true  ;  on  the  con¬ 
trary,  it  is  emphatically  and  diametrically  opposed  to  both. 

Under  the  Jewish  economy,  slavery,  in  a  modified  form, 
existed,  and  was  suffered  to  exist  —  was  tolerated,  not  jus¬ 
tified.  It  stood  on  the  same  ground  with  polygamy,  and 
similar  kindred  vices.  Many  things  were  suffered  then  to 
exist  which  a  true  and  strict  morality  could  by  no  means 
sanction,  and  which  are  nowhere  sanctioned,  but,  on  the 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


135 


contrary,  condemned  by  the  whole  spirit  of  Christianity. 
Such,  for  example,  was  the  ancient  Jewish  law  and  custom 
of  divorce  for  the  slightest  offences,  and  even  for  no  offence, 
but  the  caprice  of  the  husband.  Such  the  law  and  custom 
of  polygamy.  On  the  same  ground  we  may  also  place  the 
institution  of  slavery,  so  far  as  it  then  existed. 

Jewish  and  Modern  Slavery  unlike . —  It  must  be  remem¬ 
bered,  however,  that  the  system  of  servitude  known  and 
practised  under  the  Jewish  economy,  was  in  many  respects 
essentially  different  from  the  slavery  of  modern  times.  It 
was  another  and  a  very  different  thing.  The  difference 
was  as  great,  as  that  between  an  absolute,  and  a  constitu¬ 
tional  and  limited  monarchy.  The  power  of  the  Jewish 
master  over  his  servant  was  closely  and  strictly  limited. 
The  servant  was  not,  in  the  modern  sense,  a  slave  —  a  mere 
piece  of  property,  a  thing.  He  was  still  a  man.  He  had 
his  rights ,  and  they  were  carefully  guarded  and  secured  by 
law.  The  master  was  not,  either  in  theory,  or  practically, 
irresponsible.  In  purchasing  a  servant,  he  purchased  not 
so  much  the  man  himself  as  the  right  to  the  labor  and  ser¬ 
vices  of  the  man,  and  even  that  under  certain  important 
restrictions.  The  purchase  was  to  be  made,  in  the  first 
place,  of  some  foreign  nation.  If  the  servant  found  his 
situation  disagreeable,  and  effected  his  escape,  he  was  not 
to  be  delivered  up  to  his  master  (Deut.  xxiii.  15,  16)  ;  nor 
was  the  servitude  in  any  case  to  be  perpetual.  Every 
fiftieth  year  witnessed  the  release  of  every  servant  from 
bondage  throughout  the  land.  Religious  rights  were 
especially  guaranteed  to  the  servant.  He  was  to  have  full 
opportunity  for  religious  instruction  and  worship.  If  the 
master  maimed  or  otherwise  abused  him,  he  was  to  be  set 
free  (Ex.  xxi.  26,  27) ;  if  the  slave  were  killed  while 
under  the  master’s  correction,  the  master  was  to  be  pun¬ 
ished  (Ex.  xxi.  20). 


136  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY- 


N ow,  it  is  evident  that  these  are  very  important  restrict 
tions.  A  system  of  servitude  thus  modified  and  limited, 
would  be  a  very  different  institution  from  any  known  as 
modern  slavery.  When  these  limitations  and  restrictions 
shall  have  been  adopted  into  the  slave-codes  of  those 
states  where  men  are  now  held  in  bondage ;  when  it  shall 
be  unlawful  to  deliver  to  his  master  a  slave  that  has 
escaped  ;  when  every  fiftieth  year  shall  set  free  all  that  are 
in  bondage  ;  when  every  slave  that  receives  personal  injury, 
to  the  loss  of  an  eye  or  a  tooth  even,  by  severity  of  treat¬ 
ment,  shall  go  free  for  his  eye’s  or  tooth’s  sake ;  when  the 
death  of  the  slave  under  the  hand  of  his  master  shall 
subject  the  master  to  severe  and  certain  punishment; 
when  the  full  privileges  of  mental  and  religious  instruction 
shall  be  secured  to  the  slave,  —  then,  and  not  till  then,  it 
will  be  time  enough  to  plead  the  system  of  Jewish  servi¬ 
tude  as  a  precedent  for  modern  slavery.  Such  restrictions, 
it  is  perfectly  obvious,  are  quite  incompatible  with  the  sys¬ 
tem  as  it  exists  among  us ;  they  would  bring  it  to  a  speedy 
end. 

Greek  and  Roman  Slavery.  —  But  the  slavery  which  is 
recognized  in  the  New  Testament,  it  is  said,  was  much 
worse  than  that  of  the  Jewish  state.  In  the  Grecian  and 
Roman  states  the  master’s  power  over  the  slave  was  un¬ 
restricted,  amounting  even  to  the  power  of  life  and  death. 
It  was  to  slavery  in  this  its  severer  and  more  complete 
form,  that  the  New  Testament  writers  had  reference.  This 
is  true.  But  do  these  writers  justify  such  a  system,  or 
merely  recognize  its  existence  ?  Is  it  approved,  or  merely 
tolerated  ?  Is  it  anywhere  defended,  and  placed  on  the 
high  ground  of  moral  right,  or  merely  recognized  as  an 
existing  civil  institution  ?  These  are  important  questions. 
It  is  for  those  who  undertake  to  defend  slavery  from  the 
Bible,  to  show  that  the  sacred  writers  justify  the  system  of 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


137 


servitude  then  in  vogue  ;  that  they  recognize  not  merely  its 
existence,  but  its  moral  rightness.  This  cannot  be  shown. 
So  far  from  approving  and  justifying  anything  of  the  kind, 
the  whole  tenor  of  the  sacred  writings,  and  especially  of 
the  New  Testament,  is  directly  opposed  to  all  such  systems, 
laws,  and  practices. 

The  spirit  of  the  divine  precepts,  the  sum  and  substance 
of  that  law  which  is  to  govern  our  conduct,  is  contained 
in  that  universal  rule,  “  All  things  whatsoever  ye  would 
that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  unto  them.” 
Our  regard  for  the  rights  and  happiness  of  others  is  to  be 
measured  by  our  regard  for  our  own  welfare,  and  our  own 
rights.  Is  such  a  rule  compatible  with  the  existence  of 
such  a  system  of  slavery  as  prevailed  in  Greece  and  Rome, 
or  as  still  prevails  among  modern  nations  ?  Is  it  not,  on 
the  contrary,  utterly  subversive  of  any  and  every  such 
system?  Were  this  one  precept  carried  out,  slavery,  in 
whatever  form,  and  whatever  land,  would  as  surely  and  as 
speedily  terminate,  as  night  ceases  when  day  begins. 

Duties  of  Masters  and  Servants  prescribed.  —  But,  it  is 
said,  the  New  Testament  prescribes  the  duties  of  master 
and  servant,  and  so  tacitly  gives  consent  to  the  system.  It 
is  true,  the  gospel  enjoins  upon  the  master  the  duty  of 
forbearance,  and  kindness,  and  of  rendering  to  the  servant 
that  which  was  just  and  due,  and  upon  the  servant  the 
duty  of  obedience  to  the  master.  But  these  duties  are 
enjoined,  not  on  the  ground  of  the  rightfulness  of  the  rela¬ 
tion,  but  simply  as  that  which,  under  all  the  circumstances, 
was  the  best  course  to  pursue,  and  would  be  most  pleasing 
in  the  sight  of  God.  Precisely  in  the  same  way,  and  on 
the  same  principle,  the  disciples  of  the  Christian  faith  were 
advised  to  submit  to  the  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  decrees 
and  irresponsible  power  of  tyrants,  such  an  one  as  Nero 
even,  not  because  such  exercise  of  tyrannical  power  waa 

12* 


138  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


a  thing  to  be  justified,  a  right  thing,  but  because  to  sub¬ 
mit  and  to  suffer  wrong  was,  under  all  the  circumstances, 
better  —  better  for  them,  situated  as  they  were  —  than  to 
resist.  “  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord.” 
Does  this  justify  Nero  ?  On  the  same  principle,  the  Chris¬ 
tian  disciple  was  bidden  to  turn  the  other  cheek  to  the 
hand  that  had  already  smitten,  since  it  was  better,  on  the 
whole,  —  better  at  least  for  him,  as  a  Christian,  — to  suffer 
outrage  patiently  than  to  take  his  defence  into  his  own 
hands’.  Does  this  justify  acts  of  personal  assault  and  vio- 
lence  ?  They  who  defend  slavery  on  this  ground,  must,  on 
the  same  principle,  if  they  reason  consistently,  defend  any 
system  of  civil  oppression  and  tyranny,  however  arbitrary 
and  unjust,  and  any  personal  violence  inflicted  by  lawless 
and  angry  men  upon  the  victims  of  their  ferocity. 

In  the  well-expressed  language  of  an  able  writer  and 
moralist,  Dr.  Hickok :  “  This  obedience  was  by  no 

means  required  on  the  ground  that  slavery  was  right¬ 
eous,  and  the  master’s  authority  morally  valid.  It  would 
be  more  prudent  for  the  slave  to  obey,  and  tend  most 
to  cultivate  his  piety.  He  was  required  to  be  obedient 
‘not  only  to  the  good  afld  gentle,  but  also  to  the  frow- 
ard;’  even  obedient  where  cruelty  and  wickedness  led 
to  the  ‘buffeting’  of  the  slave  ‘for  doing  well.’  It  was 
expedient  to  obey;  just  as,  when  you  cannot  escape  from 
a  tiger,  it  is  expedient  not  to  provoke  him.  It  by  no 
means  justifies  the  usurped  authority.  It  was  better  for 
the  slave  to  obey ;  and  especially  it  would  serve  to  aug¬ 


ment  piety,  and  recommend  the  religion  of  Him,  who  in 
his  humiliation  was  smitten  and  ‘opened  not  his  mouth.’” 

Why  not  directly  forbidden.  —  But  why,  it  may  be 
asked,  was  not  the  system  directly  forbidden,  or  at  least 
declared  to  be  unjust  and  morally  wrong,  if  such  is  indeed 
its  true  character?  I  reply,  it  is  really  forbidden  by  the 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


139 


spirit  and  the  precepts  of  Christianity  —  really,  though 
not  directly  and  explicitly.  The  rule  to  do  unto  others 
whatsoever  we  would  that  they  should  do  unto  us,  as  really 
forbids  that  involuntary  servitude  which  exacts  of  a  fellow¬ 
being  unrequited  service,  and  robs  him  of  all  his  dearest 
rights,  as  if  the  practice  of  such  a  wrong  were  mentioned 
by  name,  and  specially  prohibited.  A  reason  doubtless  ex¬ 
isted  for  not  thus  designating  it  in  so  many  words.  It  was 
a  social  evil,  incorporated  into  the  whole  fabric  of  civil 
society  and  government.  To  have  singled  out  the  evil, 
and  by  direct  precept  to  have  prohibited  it,  would  have 
been,  perhaps,  neither  the  wisest  nor  the  surest  mode  of  re¬ 
dress.  It  would  have  been  a  direct  interference  of  Chris¬ 
tianity  with  civil  government.  In  the  language  of  Dr. 
W  a  viand  :  “  If  it  had  forbidden  the  evil,  instead  of  subvert- 
ing  the  principle, — if  it  had  proclaimed  the  unlawfulness  of 
slavery,  and  taught  slaves  to  resist  the  oppression  of  their 
masters,  —  it  would  instantly  have  arrayed  the  two  parties 
in  deadly  hostility,  throughout  the  civilized  world.  Its  an¬ 
nouncement  would  have  been  the  signal  of  servile  war; 
and  the  very  name  of  the  Christian  religion  wTould  have 
been  forgotten  amidst  the  agitations  of  universal  blood¬ 
shed.  The  fact,  under  these  circumstances,  that  the  gospel 
does  not  forbid  slavery,  affords  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
it  does  not  mean  to  prohibit  it;  much  less  does  it  afford 
ground  for  belief  that  Jesus  Christ  intended  to  author¬ 
ize  it.” 

The  Mode  of  Hedress. —  We  have  been  occupied  in  the 
preceding  pages  with  the  discussion  of  the  moral  character 
of  this  institution  of  slavery.  It  is  no  part  of  the  business 
of  the  moralist,  strictly  speaking,  to  point  out  the  best 
methods  of  redressing  the  wrongs  and  evils  of  society. 
This  it  is  for  others  to  do.  One  thing,  however,  I  may 
properly  say  in  this  connection.  Whatever  measures  are 


140  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERT  Y . 


adopted,  looking  to  this  end,  must  necessarily  be  gradual 
in  their  operation,  in  order  wisely  and  well  to  accomplish 
their  purpose.  The  social  fabric  is  not  to  be  rudely  shaken, 
nor  its  whole  structure  radically  changed  in  a  day.  Time 
is  requisite,  and  the  slow  growth  of  principle.  Much  is  to 
be  hoped  from  the  progress  of  society,  and  the  gradual  prev¬ 
alence  of  more  enlightened  views,  and  of  a  loftier  and  purer 
morality.  In  proportion  as  society  advances,  and  Christian¬ 
ity  obtains  a  firmer  hold  on  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  race, 
this  system,  so  utterly  at  variance  with  all  just  notions  of 
right  and  duty,  and  so  repugnant  to  the  feelings  of  com¬ 
mon  humanity,  must  and  will  gradually  disappear,  as  the 
shadows  from  the  mountain  side,  and  the  mists  from  the 
bosom  of  the  lake,  when  the  sun  mounts  the  heavens  in 
his  strength. 

Progress  of  European  Society. —  If  we  look  at  the  social 
organization  of  the  European  nations,  we  find  them,  in  the 
course  of  centuries,  passing  through  a  series  of  changes, 
from  the  state  of  absolute  servitude  of  the  laboring  classes, 
to  that  of  more  or  less  perfect  equality  and  freedom.  For 
some  two  centuries  or  more  after  the  Norman  conquest, 
the  greater  portion  of  the  cultivators  of  the  soil  in  Eng¬ 
land  were  serfs,  or  villeins ,  as  they  were  then  termed, 
bound  to  the  soil,  and  owing  service  to  the  proprietor 
thereof.  The  peasant  belonged  to  the  soil,  and,  with  all 
his  family  and  descendants,  from  generation  to  genera¬ 
tion,  was  at  the  disposal  of  the  lord  of  the  manor.  These 
unlimited  labor-rents  were  gradually,  during  the  succeed¬ 
ing  centuries,  commuted  into  more  definite  services,  and 
the  peasant  acquired  legal  right,  or  copyhold,  as  it  was 
termed,  to  the  lands  which  he  cultivated.  It  is  only  about 
two  hundred  years  since  the  cultivator  of  the  soil  in  Eng¬ 
land  ceased  to  be  held  in  personal  thraldom. 

Inn  iany  parts  of  derm  any,  serfdom  still  exists;  in  others, 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  LIBERTY. 


141 


the  peasant  is  no  longer  attached  to  the  soil,  but,  instead  of 
unlimited  service,  pays  his  landlord  some  definite  amount 
of  labor  as  land-rent ;  in  other  cases,  this  is  commuted  for 
rent  in  grain  or  money,  and  the  servitude  becomes  almost 
nominal. 

In  Russia,  the  serf  was  little  better  than  a  slave,  except 
that  his  service  was  limited.  He  was  bound  to  work  for  the 
owner  of  the  soil  a  certain  number  of  days  in  the  week, 
laboring  for  the  rest  of  the  time,  for  his  own  subsistence, 
on  lands  allotted  for  the  purpose.  Nor  was  it  until  the 
accession  of  the  present  government  that  this  system  was 
abolished. 

Sentiment  of  Pctley .  —  Soon  after  the  close  of  the  strug¬ 
gle  by  which  the  American  Colonies  became  independent 
of  England,  Archdeacon  Paley,  referring  to  the  system  of 
slavery,  and  to  the  part  which  the  English  government 
had  taken  in  upholding  it,  made  use  of  the  following  lan¬ 
guage,  in  his  work  on  Moral  Philosophy :  “  The  great  rev¬ 
olution  which  has  taken  place  in  the  Western  world  may 
probably  conduce  (and  who  knows  but  that  it  was  de¬ 
signed)  to  accelerate  the  fall  of  this  abominable  tyranny ; 
and  now  that  this  contest,  and  the  passions  which  attended 
it,  are  no  more,  there  may  succeed  perhaps  a  season  for 
reflecting,  whether  a  legislature  which  had  so  long  lent  its 
assistance  to  the  support  of  an  institution  replete  with 
human  misery,  was  fit  to  be  trusted  with  an  empire  the 
most  extensive  that  ever  obtained  in  any  age  or  quarter  of 
the  world.”  Could  this  excellent  moralist,  after  the  lapse 
of  three  quarters  of  a  century,  be  permitted  to  look  upon 
this  Western  world  as  it  now  is,  and  behold  the  present- 
greatness  and  prosperity  of  the  country  that  was  then  just 
commencing  its  career,  as  he  beheld  with  astonishment 
this  dark  blot  still  upon  our  escutcheon,  would  he  not,  and 
with  justice,  repeat,  with  reference  to  our  own  nation,  the 


142  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


question  then  so  forcibly  put,  with  reference  to  the  British 
government,  “  whether  a  legislature  that  had  so  long  lent 
its  assistance  to  the  support  of  an  institution  replete  with 
human  misery,  was  fit  to  be  trusted  with  an  empire  ”  so 
extensive  and  powerful  ? 


CHAPTER  III. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 

Man  has  not  only  the  right  to  life,  and  to  liberty,  but 
also  to  property,  or  the  possession  and  enjoyment  of  what¬ 
ever  lie  may,  by  his  own  industry  or  good  fortune,  or  the 
gift  of  others,  have  honestly  acquired.  Prominent  a;nong  the 
duties,  therefore,  which  we  owe  to  our  fellow-men,  —  that 
is,  to  society,  —  are  the  duties  which  have  respect  to  prop¬ 
erty.  The  principal  topics  to  be  considered  are  the  right 
of  property,  the  uses  of  such  an  institution,  the  modes  in 
which  it  may  be  acquired,  the  different  kinds  of  property, 
crimes  against  property,  and  the  various  limitations  of  the 
right  of  property. 

§  I.  Foundation  of  the  Right  of  Property. 

Labor  and  not  Law .  —  Whatever  man  produces  as  the 
result  of  his  own  skill  and  labor,  is  properly  his,  and  no 
one  else  has  the  right  to  take  it  from  him.  It  is  his  prop¬ 
erty  by  a  natural  right.  There  is  need  of  no  law,  or  social 
organization  and  compact,  in  order  to  this.  His  title  to 
use,  possess,  and  enjoy  what  he  has  himself  produced,  by 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  143 


virtue  of  his  own  powers  and  his  own  industry,  is  just  as 
good  before  as  after,  without  as  with,  any  such  legislation 
or  compact.  Law  and  social  organization,  with  its  appli¬ 
ances,  may  confirm  and  protect  him  in  his  right,  but  do  not 
create  it. 

Different  Theories.  —  According  to  the  view  now  taken, 
it  is  the  labor  expended  in  originally  acquiring,  or  subse¬ 
quently  improving  any  object  of  possession,  that  consti¬ 
tutes  the  right  of  property  in  the  same.  In  the  case  of 
land,  the  labor  of  cultivation  renders  it  more  valuable,  and 
so  confers  the  right  of  continued  possession  on  him  who 
has  created  that  value.  This  is  the  view  maintained  by 
Locke,  and  many  others. 

Another  view  of  the  matter  is,  that,  inasmuch  as  God, 
the  Creator  of  all  things,  provided  the  gifts  of  nature  for 
the  use  of  all  his  creatures,  therefore  every  one  has  a  right 
originally  to  all  he  needs.  In  this  manner,  land,  as  well  as 
other  things,  comes  to  be  the  property  of  the  individual. 
This  is  a  rule  of  somewhat  indefinite  application ;  and  if 
carried  out,  would  lead,  perhaps,  to  the  disorganization  of 
society  as  at  present  constituted.  As  regards  strictly  the 
gifts  of  nature,  it  is  doubtless  true  that  they  were  intended 
for  all.  Light,  air,  rain,  sunshine,  and  the  like,  are  free  to  all, 
and  in  their  nature  cannot,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
be  appropriated.  But  it  is  otherwise  with  that  on  which, 
by  my  toil  or  skill,  I  have  conferred  a  value.  Water  is 
free  to  all ;  but  not  the  water  of  the  well  that  I  have  dug 
for  my  own  convenience.  Fire  is  a  commodity  which  na¬ 
ture  places  within  the  reach  of  all ;  but  not  the  fire  which 
my  labor  has  kindled  for  my  own  use.  So  land  may  orig¬ 
inally  have  been  free  to  the  first  comer;  but  when  he  has 
once  taken  possession,  and  expended  labor  and  created 
value,  it  is  not  free  to  others,  so  long  as  he  chooses  to 
occupy  it. 


144  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


JPalefs  Vieic. —  Paley  makes  the  foundation  of  property 
to  be  the  law  of  the  land,  as  carrying  out  the  will  and  in¬ 
tention  of  the  Creator.  u  It  is  the  intention  of  God  that 
the  produce  of  the  earth  be  applied  to  the  use  of  man. 
This  intention  cannot  be  fulfilled  without  establishing 

property.  It  is  consistent,  therefore,  with  his  will  that 

• 

property  be  established.  The  land  cannot  be  divided  into 
separate  property  without  leaving  it  to  the  law  of  the 
country  to  regulate  that  division.  It  is  consistent,  there¬ 
fore^  with  the  same  will  that  law  should  regulate  the  divis¬ 
ion ;  and,  consequently,  ‘consistent  with  the  will  of  God,’ 
or  4  right-,’  that  I  should  possess  that  share  which  these 
regulations  assign  me.” 

This  resolves  all  right  into  the  will  of  God,  —  which  is 
Paley’s  theory  of  right,  —  and  it  also  supposes  that  the 
laws  of  the  land  are  in  all  cases  an  expression  of  that  will, 
—  which  is  by  no  means  certain.  Now,  it  is  perfectly  clear 
that  law  regulates  the  conveyance  of  property,  defines 
what  is  and  what  is  not  property,  maintains  and  secures 
to  the  rightful  owner  that  which  properly  belongs  to  him. 
It  maintains  and  defends,  but  it  does  not  create  the  right 
to  own.  It  regulates  rather  than  originates  that  right. 

Constitution  of  the  Mind .  —  The  right,  in  itself  consid¬ 
ered,  or  in  the  abstract,  is  found,  if  I  mistake  not,  in  the 
nature  and  constitution  of  the  human  mind, — just  as 
societv  itself  originates  from  that  same  nature  and  consti- 
tution.  This,  indeed,  reduces  itself  ultimately  into  the 
divine  will ;  inasmuch  as  the  nature  and  constitution  of 
men  are  from  God,  and  it  was  for  him  to  form  us  with 

what  nature,  and  endow  us  with  what  propensities,  he 

» 

pleased.  Still,  we  need  go  no  further  than  to  the  constitu¬ 
tion  of  human  nature  to  discover  the  origin  of  the  princi¬ 
ple  in  question.  The  desire  to  possess,  to  appropriate,  lies 
among  the  native  and  implanted  principles  of  the  mind. 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  145 

It  shows  itself  in  earliest  life.  The  child  appropriates  to 
himself  the  toys  that  are  given  him,  and  feels  injured  if 
they  are  taken  from  him  by  another.  The  structure  of 
language  shows  that  this  is  a  universal  principle.  M  here- 
ever  we  find  in  human  speech  the  use  of  possessive  pro¬ 
nouns,  or  other  forms  of  language  fulfilling  that  office,  we 
find  the  expression  of  this  principle.  Men,  universally, 
feel  that  there  is  a  right  violated,  a  wrong  done,  in  taking 
by  violence  or  fraud  that  which  has  been  appropriated  by 
another.  Hence,  they  demand  not  mere  restitution,  but 
the  punishment  of  the  offender. 

But  while  we  seek  in  the  structure  of  the  mind  itself 
the  origin  and  foundation  of  the  right  of  property  in  gen¬ 
eral —  of  the  right  to  appropriate,  in  itself  considered  — 
the  condition  on  which  that  right  depends  —  i.  e .,  the 
right  to  appropriate  this  or  that  thing,  in  any  given  case  — 
is  the  circumstance  already  pointed  out :  namely,  that 
labor  has  been  originally  bestowed  in  the  acquisition  of 
these  things,  and  value  created  as  the  result  of  that  labor, 
to  which  value  the  laborer  is  justly  entitled,  as  something 
he  has  himself  produced. 

Objection.  —  If  it  be  said  that  we  possess  many  things, 
which  we  call  property,  on  which  we  have  not  bestowed 
labor,  —  many  values  which  we  have  not  ourselves  created, 
as,  for  example,  property  inherited  or  bequeathed,  or  the 
gifts  of  friendship,  —  I  reply,  these  values  were  originally 
acquired  or  created  by  labor ;  they  became  the  property 
of  the  original  owner  in  that  way ;  and  the  right  of  pos¬ 
session  has  been  conferred  by  him  on  the  present  posses- 
•  sor. 

The  only  exception  to  this  rule,  which  occurs  to  my 
mind,  is  the  accident  of  discovery :  as  when,  walking  by 
the  bank  of  a  stream,  I  find  a  piece  of  gold  ore,  or  a  pearl, 
among  its  sands.  In  this  case,  there  is  certainly  no  labor 

13 


146  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


bestowed  on  the  acquisition  further  than  that  of  picking 
up  and  appropriating  what  I  have  discovered.  The  act  of 
appropriation  constitutes  my  right  in  this  case,  and  holds 
good  as  against  others,  on  the  ground  that  no  one  else  has 
bestowed  labor  on  the  things  in  question,  and  therefore 
no  one  else  has  any  claim  to  them.  Were  it  otherwise, — 
were  the  treasure  found  not  a  natural  product,  but  the 
result  of  human  labor,  as,  e,  g .,  a  bracelet  of  pearls,  or  a 
purse  of  gold  coined  for  use,  —  my  discovery  of  the  arti¬ 
cle  would  not  constitute  a  right  of  possession  against  the 
claim  of  the  real  owner.  Even  in  the  case  supposed,  the 
owner  of  the  soil  in  which  the  gold  ore  or  the  jewels  is 
found,  may  present  a  counter  claim,  on  the  ground  that,  in 
purchasing  the  soil,  he  purchased  whatever  value  it  may 
produce  or  contain.  The  soil  itself  is  his  property,  and  no 
one  else  has  a  right  to  take  away  from  it  any  of  its  values. 

In  like  manner,  were  a  meteorite  to  fall  from  the  sky  ' 
upon  my  land,  my  right  to  that  value  would  depend  not 
merely,  or  so  much,  upon  the  accident  of  discovery,  as 
upon  my  previous  right  to  the  premises,  —  a  right  pur¬ 
chased  by  labor  in  some  form. 

View  of  Wfiatelg. — Archbishop  Whately,  in  his  Logic, 
has  made  use  of  this  very  illustration  to  prove  the  oppo¬ 
site  doctrine,  viz.,  that  the  right  of  property  does  not 
depend,  ultimately,  on  labor.  The  labor  expended  in  the 
production  of  values  is,  according  to  him,  not  essential  to 
the  existence  of  value  and  to  property  in  the  same,  but  is 
merely  accidental ,  —  a  circumstance  that,  indeed,  usually, 
but  not  always  or  necessarily,  accompanies  the  possession 
of  wealth.  The  meteorite  that  falls  in  my  yard  has  a 
value  quite  independent  of  human  labor. 

It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  in  this  instance,  Whately, 
while  attempting  to  correct  a  popular  fallacy,  as  he  regards 
v,  has  himself  fallen  into  a  still  more  serious  error.  If  we 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  147 


Jook  at  the  real  wealth  of  the  world,  the  chief  values  that 
constitute  the  property  of  men,  we  certainly  do  find  them 
to  be,  in  great  proportion,  the  result  of  human  labor.  The 
exceptions  are  so  few  and  so  slight,  as  compared  with  the 
whole  amount,  that  they  scarcely  deserve  to  be  taken  into 
the  account;  and  instead  of  calling  labor  an  accidental 
circumstance  sometimes  accompanying  the  possession  of 
wealth,  it  were  certainly  much  nearer  the  truth  to  call  it 
the  ride,  and  its  exceptions  the  accident. 

Relation  of  the  State  to  private  Property .  —  According 
to  the  view  of  some,  the  state  is  the  supreme  and  ulti¬ 
mate  proprietor  and  controller  of  all  property.  The  natu¬ 
ral  right  must,  in  all  cases,  be  held  subordinate  to  the  pub¬ 
lic  authority.  It  is  for  the  state  to  determine  what  shall 
be  considered  as  the  property  of  every  citizen,  and  no 
man  can  hold  any  property,  or  call  it  his  own,  except  as 
under  the  law  of  the  land.  All  individual  right  is  thus 
resolved  into  state  right.  Such  is  the  view  maintained  by 
some  able  writers,  among  others  by  Dr.  Ilickok. 

According  to  this  view,  the  individual  right  to  property 
is  derived  from  the  state.  The  natural  right  is  no  right 
unless  the  state  sanctions  it.  This  view  seems  to  destroy 
individual  right  and  liberty,  —  to  merge  the  individual  cit~ 
izen,  with  all  his  rights  and  powers,  in  the  state,  —  thus 
making  the  state  all  in  all,  as  in  that  theory  of  political 
organization  which  Plato  has  left  us. 

In  reality,  the  state  confers  no  right,  as  to  property, 
which  did  not  previously  exist,  and  which  would  not  have 
existed  even  had  there  been  no  such  thing  as  a  state.  It 
confirms  and  establishes  existing  rights.  It  regulates  the 
sale  and  transfer  of  property.  It  inquires  into  the  validity 
of  titles  and  the  terms  of  contract,  and  takes  care  that 
those  terms  shall  be  fulfilled.  The  state  is  merely  a  social 
organization,  contrived  for  the  purpose  of  more  effectually 


148  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


securing  and  maintaining  the  rights  and  liberties  of  the 
whole  body  of  individual  citizens,  —  in  other  words,  the 
public  good. 

It  has  no  power,  except  that  of  the  individual  arms  that 
compose  its  aggregate  strength ;  no  rights  or  authority, 
except  such  as  may  be  conferred  on  it  by  the  body  politic. 
It  owns,  and  can  own,  no  property,  except  such  as  belongs 
to  the  citizens  that  constitute  the  state,  either  in  their  pri¬ 
vate,  individual  capacity,  or  as  a  public  body.  Whatever 
right  or  control  of  property  the  state  has,  it  derived  orig¬ 
inally  from  the  people. 

In  order  to  carry  out  the  purposes  for  which  the  state  is 
created,  it  must  have  control  and  disposal  of  so  much  of 
the  public  property  as  is  necessary  to  the  subsistence,  de¬ 
fence,  and  well-being  of  the  state ;  must  have  power  to 
lay  out  roads,  levy  taxes,  etc. ;  and,  whenever,  in  pursu¬ 
ance  of  such  objects,  the  public  claim  comes  into  conflict 
with  individual  claim,  the  latter  must  yield  to  the  former, 
on  the  principle  that  the  majority  govern.  When,  for 
example,  the  land  held  by  any  citizen  is  needed  for  some 
public  purpose,  as  a  road,  for  instance,  the  state  has  the 
right  to  take  it  from  him  for  that  purpose ;  but  not  without 
equivalent  to  the  full  value  of  the  property  taken.  Other¬ 
wise,  government  becomes  a  despotism,  and  there  is  no 
longer  security  for  individual  right. 

§  II.  —  Advantages  of  the  Institution  of  Property. 

Granting  the  right,  which  has  been  already  discussed, 
the  question  may  still  arise,  Of  what  use  is  the  institution 
of  property,  or  private  possession  ?  Why  may  not  society 
hold  its  goods  in  common,  every  man  taking  from  the 
common  stock  that  which  he  needs  for  his  own  present 
wants,  and  that  only  ?  Why  should  one  particular  por- 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  149 


tion  of  the  soil,  for  example,  be  set  off  to  my  share,  with 
its  various  products,  and  another  to  my  neighbor  ?  What 
advantage  results  from  such  distribution  ? 

Contributes  to  the  Comfort  and  Happiness  of  Man. — 
That  there  are  some  disadvantages  resulting  from  the  dis- 
tribution  of  property,  cannot  be  denied.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  are  many  and  obvious  advantages;  prominent 
among  which  must  be  reckoned  the  contribution  thus 
made  to  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  the  race.  Man  is 
so  constituted,  as  we  have  already  seen,  that  he  naturally 
desires  to  possess,  and  call  his  own,  the  objects  that  min¬ 
ister  to  his  wants.  He  enjoys  that  which  is  his  own  and 
not  another’s.  The  waters  from  his  own  spring,  the  fruit 
from  his  own  tree,  that  he  has  himself  planted  and  nur¬ 
tured,  the  game  which  his  own  bow  has  brought  down, 
or  his  own  net  captured,  are  sweeter  and  pleasanter  than 
any  other. 

He  not  only  enjoys  more  what  he  thus  possesses,  but 
he  possesses  more  in  consequence  of  this  arrangement. 
Were  there  no  such  thing  as  property,  there  would  be  no 
division  of  labor;  every  man  would  be  obliged  to  hunt, 
and  fish,  and  cook,  for  himself;  to  make  his  own  clothes, 
and  his  own  hut,  or  tent;  to  provide  for  all  his  own  wants. 
He  would,  in  consequence,  be  very  poorly  provided.  His 
implements  of  labor  would  be  rude  and  clumsy;  his  con¬ 
veniences  of  living,  scanty.  His  time  and  attention  being 
divided  among  so  many  pursuits,  he  would  acquire  little 
skill  in  any  of  them.  By  devoting  himself  to  some  one 
art  or  profession,  he  becomes  expert  in  that;  and  by  ex¬ 
changing  the  products  of  his  skill  and  labor  for  other 
commodities,  which  in  like  manner  have  been  produced 
by  other  laborers,  the  objects  of  enjoyment  at  his  com¬ 
mand  become  greatly  augmented.  But  this  implies  prop- 

13* 


150  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


erty  in  what  is  thus  produced,  as  otherwise  there  can  be 
no  right  of  exchan  ire. 

O  CD 

Augments  the  Produce  of  the  Earth.  —  It  is  a  further 
advantage  of  the  arrangement  in  question,  that  it  greatly 
increases  the  products  of  the  soil.  In  order  to  fertility,  and 
the  greatest  productiveness  of  the  earth,  there  must  be  la¬ 
bor  and  due  cultivation.  It  produces  little  spontaneously. 
But  where  there  is  no  property  in  the  soil  and  its  pro¬ 
ducts,  where  they  are  the  common  possession  of  all,  where 
those  who  do  not  labor  share  equally  with  those  who  do, 
there  is  no  incitement  to  labor  —  no  inducement  to  put 
forth  the  exertion  requisite  to  the  proper  cultivation  of 
the  soil.  Tillage  will  inevitably  be  neglected,  and  the 
community  will  grow  poor  together,  in  proportion  to  that 
neglect.  The  products  of  the  earth,  as  every  one  knows, 
are  our  chief  source  of  national  wealth  —  the  foundation, 
in  fact,  on  which  other  modes  and  sources  of  productive¬ 
ness  must  ultimately  rest. 

• 

The  effect  of  leaving  land  and  produce  to  be  held  in 
common,  is  seen  in  the  neglect  of  agriculture  by  the 
North  American  native  tribes  —  gathering  a  precarious 
and  scanty  support  from  an  amount  of  territory  sufficient, 
under  proper  management,  to  feed  and  clothe  a  hundred¬ 
fold  greater  population.  It  has  always  been  observed, 
also,  that  where,  among  civilized  communities,  a  piece  of 
ground  or  other  property  has  been  held  in  common,  it  is  of 
little  use  to  any  body.  The  fruit  of  a  tree  that  grows  by 
the  roadside,  and  is  regarded  as  public  property,  is  seldom 
allowed  to  come  to  maturity.  It  would  be  much  the  same 
with  all  other  products,  in  like  circumstances. 

Promotes  Civilization.  —  Without  individual  possession 
and  right  of  property,  there  can  be  no  division  of  labor, 
as  I  have  said;  and  without  division  of  labor,  there  can 
be  little  progress  in  civilization.  The  advantages  of  civ* 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  151 


ilized  over  savage  life,  depend  in  a  great  measure  on  those 
mechanic  arts  which  supply  the  conveniences  and  luxuries 
of  refined  society,  and  which,  in  turn,  can  never  be  carried 
to  any  degree  of  perfection,  where  the  workman  is  not 
permitted  to  derive  the  benefit  of  his  own  skill  and  in¬ 
dustry. 

The  state  of  Europe  during  the  middle  ages,  when  des¬ 
potic  power  prevailed,  when  the  laborer  belonged  to  the 
soil  that  he  cultivated,  when  the  rights  of  private  prop¬ 
erty  were  little  regarded,  and  the  wish  of  the  strongest 
was  law,  as  compared  with  the  state  of  the  same  countries 
at  the  present  day,  when  peace  and  constitutional  law 
have  given  security  to  private  rights,  is  a  striking  illus¬ 
tration  of  this  truth.  We  see  the  same  thing  illustrated 
also  in  the  present  state  of  Syria,  and  other  countries  of 
Asia  and  the  East.  Despotic  power  prevails,  and  the  la¬ 
borer  is  not  sure  that  he  shall  be  permitted  to  enjoy  the 
product  of  his  field.  His  grain,  his  flocks,  his*  produce  of 
whatever  kind,  are  liable  to  be  taken  from  him  at  any 
moment,  by  the  rapacity  and  extortion  of  the  lawless 
agents  of  government.  There  is,  consequently,  no  in¬ 
ducement  to  labor,  more  than  is  necessary  for  absolute 
subsistence.  Agriculture  is  neglected,  and  the  mechanic 
arts.  Society  lingers  in  the  twilight  of  barbarism.  On 
the  contrary,  wherever,  under  free  and  well-ordered  gov¬ 
ernments,  we  find  the  rights  of  private  property  respected 
and  secured,  there  we  find  the  arts  and  agriculture  flour¬ 
ishing,  property  accumulating,  society  rapidly  advancing. 

Inequality  of  Distribution.  —  But,  while  the  institution 
of  property  has  its  obvious  advantages,  it  is  not  to  be  de¬ 
nied  that  certain  disadvantages,  and  perhaps  abuses,  flow 
from  it.  Nothing  seems,  at  first  sight,  more  unjust  than 
the  extreme  inequality  with  which  property,  the  actual 
wealth  of  the  world,  is  distributed  among  men.  One  man 


152  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


has  a  fortune,  another  is  reduced  to  beggary.  One  rolls 
in  luxury,  and  counts  his  millions,  and  measures  his  estates 
by  the  square  mile ;  another  toils  for  the  merest  pittance, 
and  barely  subsists  on  the  soil  which  he  cultivates  for 
another.  Nor  is  it  always  the  most  industrious,  the  most 
talented,  or  the  most  deserving,  that  reap  the  largest  re¬ 
ward.  The  weak,  the  profligate,  the  idle,  the  vicious,  may 
be,  and  often  are,  the  favorites  of  fortune,  revelling  upon 
the  proceeds  of  the  sweat  and  toil  of  honest  industry. 

Paleifs  Illustration.  —  This  anomaly  has  been  very 
forcibly  represented  by  Dr.  Paley,  in  the  w^ell-known  alle¬ 
gory  of  the  flock  of  pigeons:  “  If  you  should  see  a  flock 
of  pigeons  in  a  field  of  corn,  and  if  (instead  of  each  picking 
wdiere  and  what  it  liked,  taking  just  what  it  wanted,  and 
no  more)  you  should  see  ninety-nine  of  them  gathering 
all  they  got  into  a  heap;  reserving  nothing  for  themselves 
but  the  chaff  and  the  refuse ;  keeping  this  heap  for  one  — 
that,  the  weakest,  perhaps  worst  pigeon  of  the  flock;  sitting 
round  and  looking  on  all  the  winter,  whilst  this  one  was 
devouring,  throwing  about,  and  wasting  it;  and  if  a  pigeon 
more  hardy  and  hungry  than  the  rest,  touched  a  grain  of 
the  hoard,  all  the  others  flying  upon  it,  and  tearing  it  to 
pieces;  —  if  you  should  see  this,  you  would  see  nothing 
more  than  what  is  every  day  practised  and  established 
among  men.  Among  men  you  see  the  ninety-nine,  toil¬ 
ing  and  scraping  together  a  heap  of  superfluities  for  one 
(and  this  one,  too,  oftentimes  the  feeblest  and  worst  of  the 
whole  set  —  a  child,  a  woman,  a  madman,  or  a  fool) ;  getting 
nothing  for  themselves  but  the  coarsest  of  the  provision 
which  their  own  industry  produces ;  looking  quietly  on 
while  they  see  the  fruits  of  all  their  labor  spent  or  spoiled; 
and  if  one  of  the  number  take  or  touch  a  particle  of  the 
hoard,  the  others  joining  against  him,  and  hanging  him 
for  the  theft.” 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  153 


Fallacy  of  this  Statement.  —  It  is  important  to  be  borne 
in  mind  that,  in  the  present  constitution  of  things,  all 
property  represents,  and  is  the  product  of  labor,  performed 
at  some  time,  and  by  somebody.  The  labor  expended 
in  the  product  may  not  have  been  put  forth  by  the  pres¬ 
ent  possessor  of  the  product,  but  at  some  time  long  pre¬ 
vious,  and  by  some  one  whom  he  has  never  seen.  It  may 
have  come  into  his  hands  by  inheritance  from  some  re¬ 
mote  ancestor.  However  that  may  be,  it  is  none  the  less 
the  product  of  labor.  So  fir  as  other  men  are  concerned, 
it  is  the  same  tiling  as  if  the  present  possessor  had  ac¬ 
quired  it  by  his  own  industry  and  skill.  So  much  indus¬ 
try,  so  much  toil,  so  much  skill,  lie  embodied  and  repre¬ 
sented  in  this  wealth  which  is  accumulated  in  the  coffers 
of  the  present  proprietor.  His  lordly  mansion,  his  noble 
acres,  his  fine  grounds  and  estates,  are  the  product  for 
which  a  full  price  has  been  paid,  in  that  which  is  the  ulti¬ 
mate  price  of  all  requisitions,  viz.,  human  labor. 

The  illustration  of  Paley  overlooks  this  fact.  The 

* 

pigeon  which  he  describes  seated  in  the  midst  of  the 
flock,  enjoys  the  products  of  the  labors  of  those  around 
him,  to  which  he  has  no  right.  It  is  not  his  labor;  it  is  not 
his  product.  He  has  no  claims  to  it ;  it  belongs  to  those 
who  are  engaged  in  heaping  it  together.  But  in  the  dis¬ 
tribution  of  property  among  men,  it  is  not  so ;  the  rich 
man  has  that  only  which  he  has  acquired  by  his  own  toil 
and  economy,  or  which  has  rightfully  descended  to  him 
from  those  who  in  the  first  instance  acquired  it  in  this 
manner.  He  has  a  claim  and  a  rio'ht  to  all  that  he  cal’s 
his.  The  poor  man,  on  the  other  hand,  has  equal  claim 
and  right  to  all  that  he  produces,  be  it  more  or  less;  and, 
so  far  from  hanging  him  if  he  touches  it,  or  preventing 
him  from  the  full  enjoyment  of  it,  society  protects  him 
in  that  right.  So  far  as  designed  to  represent  the  gne- 


154  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


qual  distribution  of  property,  then,  the  illustration  of  Dr. 
Paley,  while  amusing  and  ingenious,  is  by  no  means  a  fair 
and  correct  representation  of  the  case.  The  argument 
which  it  conveys  is  sophistical. 

§  III.  —  Modes  in  which  Property  may  be  Acquired. 

The  First  Ownership .  —  The  first  ownership  of  all 
things  lies  with  the  Creator  of  all,  and  is  his  gift  to  his 
creatures.  So  far  as  I  have  need  of  these  things,  and 
no  one  else  has,  by  any  reason,  a  higher  claim  to  them, 
I  may  regard  that  which  I  find  ready  at  my  hand,  and 
adapted  to  my  wants,  as  the  gift  of  the  Creator  to  me, 
his  creature.  That  I  need  it,  and  can  have  it  without 
interfering  with  the  rights  of  others,  in  itself  constitutes 
in  some  sort  a  title  to  the  tiling.  Such  is  the  case  as 
regards  the  spontaneous  productions  of  the  earth,  game 
running  wild  in  the  forest,  unclaimed  lands,  etc.  Such, 
in  the  primitive  state  of  society,  was  the  case  with  most 
of  those  values  which  were  in  that  rude  stage  of  civiliza¬ 
tion  possessed. 

Acquisition  by  Effort.  —  But,  aside  from  this  primitive 
acquisition  by  gift  from  the  Creator,  the  chief  mode  in 
which'  property  may  be  acquired  is  by  labor.  As  society 
advances,  and  man’s  wants  increase,  he  no  longer  depends 
on  those  spontaneous  productions  of  the  earth  found  ready 
at  his  hand,  and  which  may  be  regarded  as  the  direct  gift 
of  God  to  man.  The  cave  which  has  hitherto  sheltered 
him,  is  exchanged  for  a  more  comfortable  abode  ;  the  simple 
fruits  that  have  satisfied  his  hunger,  are  replaced  by  food 
of  greater  variety  and  abundance ;  the  skins  of  animals, 
that  constitute  as  yet  his  clothing,  are  laid  aside  for  some 
more  convenient  apparel;  and  these  advances  are  all  the 
product  of  labor.  To  obtain  these  better  accommodations 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  155 


he  fells  the  forest,  he  builds,  he  tills  the  ground,  lie  plants, 
he  weaves,  he  spins ;  and  what  he  thus  acquires  as  the 
result  and  reward  of  labor,  becomes  his  own,  because  the 
labor  with  which  it  was  procured  was  his  own  '  and  no  one 
has  a  right  to  take  it  from  him  without  his  consent,  and 
without  just  compensation. 

There  is,  however,  a  limitation  to  be  here  considered. 
He  who  acquires  property  by  labor  is  entitled  to  the  pro¬ 
ceeds  of  that  labor  only,  and  not  to  the  proceeds  of  those 
previous  values  on  which  that  labor  may  be  expended.  If 
I  cultivate  land  belonging  to  another,  or  make  use  of  tools 
and  implements  which  are  the  property  of  another,  this 
land,  these  tools  and  implements,  are  already  existing 
values,  on  which  the  labor  of  others  has  previously  been 
bestowed ;  and  when  I  unite  my  labor  with  theirs,  as  I  do 
in  making  use  of  these  things,  I  am  entitled  manifestly  not 
to  the  whole,  but  only  to  a  share  of  the  proceeds.  It  is 
right  that  he  who  lias  bestowed  labor  on  the  land,  in 
acquiring  possession  of  it,  and  preparing  it  for  cultivation, 
and  on  the  tools  and  implements  which  he  has  invented 
and  manufactured,  and  which  I  have  used,  should  receive 
the  benefit  of  his  labor,  as  well  as  I  of  mine. 

Acquisition  by  Exchange .  —  That  which  I  have  acquired, 
and  which  is  rightfully  my  own,  I  may  not  choose  to  keep. 
It  may  be  more  in  quantity  than  I  need  for  my  own  use ; 
or  I  may  prefer  some  other  value  in  place  of  it.  I  may 
part  with  it,  therefore,  for  something  in  return ;  and  this  is 
exchange .  This  is  still  another  mode  of  acquisition  ;  and 
what  is  thus  acquired,  becomes  my  property  as  really  and 
rightfully  as  if  my  own  labor  had  been  expended  originally 
and  directly  in  its  production. 

A  great  part  of  the  actual  possessions  of  any  man  in 
civilized  society  are  thus  acquired ;  comparatively  few  of 


156 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


the  things  which  he  calls  his  own  are  the  direct  product 
of  his  own  industry.  For  the  most  part,  we  neither  build 
our  own  houses,  nor  make  our  own  garments,  nor  prepare 
our  own  food,  but  employ  the  labor  of  others  for  these 
purposes. 

Acquisition  by  Gift  and  Inheritance.  —  Another  mode  of 
acquisition  is  by  the  conferring  of  value  gratuitously,  as 
when  I  receive  a  gift  from  a  friend,  or  when  property  is  left 
me  by  inheritance.  The  rightful  owner  of  any  possession 
may,  if  he  chooses,  part  with  the  same  without  receiving 
an  equivalent  in  return.  It  is  at  his  disposal,  and  he  may 
convey  the  right  of  ownership  now  vested  in  him  to 
whomsoever  he  pleases.  When  this  is  done  informally,  it 
is  called  a  gift.  When  property  is  conveyed  by  will,  or  by 
due  forms  of  law,  at  the  decease  of  the  original  owner,  it  is 
termed  inheritance . 

Question  as  to  Right  of  Possession .  —  Does  mere  pos¬ 
session,  in  any  case,  confer  the  right  to  possess?  Suppose 
I  have,  by  dishonest  means,  obtained  possession  of  valua¬ 
ble  property  ;  suppose,  moreover,  that  the  rightful  owners 
are  all  dead,  and  that  no  one  has  now  any  better  claim 
than  myself  to  this  property  —  that  is,  no  one  has  any  claim 
at  all ;  —  does  my  possession,  the  fact  that  it  is  now  in  my 
hands,  entitle  me  to  keep  possession  of  it?  Dr.  Wayland 
answers  yes  ;  I  have  no  moral  right  to  the  property,  but  I 
have  the  right  to  exclude  others  from  it,  who  have  no 
better  claim  than  I  have.  This  may  be  ;  and  yet  I  may 
have  no  right  to  retain  possession  of  it  myself.  The  state, 
in  such  a  case,  becomes  the  proper  recipient.  I  may  not  be 
under  obligation  to  give  up  the  property  to  any  individual 
claimant,  but  I  may  be  under  obligation  to  give  it  up  to 
society  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole.  The  mere  fact  that 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


157 


the  property  is  now  in  my  hands  gives  me  no  right  to 
retain  possession,  inasmuch  as  it  came  into  my  hands  un¬ 
lawfully.  There  may  be  cases  where  simple  possession 
entitles  the  holder  to  retain  ;  as  where  no  right  of  another 
is  violated  in  the  original  acquisition  ;  where  the  object 
acquired  is,  previous  to  its  acquisition,  the  property  of  no 
one  individual,  as  in  the  case  of  fruits  growing  by  the  road¬ 
side,  or  nuts  in  the  forest,  or  game  on  the  prairie,  or  land 
lying  unclaimed  in  a  new  and  uninhabited  territory.  In 
such  a  case,  simple  possession  holds  good  against  all  subse¬ 
quent  occupancy  by  another.  But  such  is  not  the  case 
now  supposed. 

The  principal  modes  in  which  property  may  be  acquired, 
are  those  now  stated  —  viz.,  by  the  direct  gift  of  the  Crea¬ 
tor,  by  labor  of  acquisition  and  production,  by  exchange, 
by  donation  and  inheritance. 

,§IV. — Different  Kinds  of  Property. 

Personal  and  Real.  —  It  has  become  usual  to  divide 
property  into  two  kinds  or  classes  —  personal,  and  real; 
the  latter  including  possessions  in  land,  houses,  etc.  —  what¬ 
ever  is  in  its  nature  a  fixture,  not  easily  moved ;  the  former 
including  all  other  species  of  property,  such  as  admits  of 
transfer  from  place  to  place.  That  which  we  term  real 
estate,  was  not  probably,  at  first,  recognized  as  property  at 
all,  but  became  so  only  as  society  and  civilization  pro¬ 
gressed.  The  cave  that  sheltered  the  wanderer,  and  the 
pasture  that  fed  his  flocks,  were  his  only  so  long  as  he 
occupied,  them.  After  that,  they  were  free  to  the  next 
comer. 

History  of  Property.  —  The  first  objects  of  property 
were  probably  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  the  spontaneous  pro- 

14 


158 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


ducts  of  tlie  soil,  which  became  the  property  of  the  indi¬ 
vidual  by  the  simple  act  of  gathering  and  appropriation  to 
his  own  use.  The  labor  of  acquiring  these  fruits  might 
have  been  very  slight ;  but  it  was  sufficient  to  constitute  a 
difference  between  him  who  had,  and  him  who  had  not,  in 
this  manner  acquired  possession.  Soon  the  products  of 
the  chase  would  be  added  to  the  list  of  rightful  posses¬ 
sions  ;  and  these,  as  they  would  require  more  labor  and 
skill  in  the  acquisition,  would  for  that  reason  belong,  by  a 
still  clearer  right,  to  the  individual  who  had  acquired 
them. 

In  like  manner,  tools  and  implements  for  the  chase,  or 
for  the  gathering  and  preparing  of  the  fruits  of  the  earth, 
tents,  weapons  of  protection,  and  whatever  of  the  like  sort 
was  early  found  necessary  to  the  comfort  and  subsistence 
of  man,  would  come  to  be  regarded  as  property.  In  the 
progress  of  time,  flocks  and  herds  of  domestic  animals 
would  constitute  a  portion  of  the  wealth  of  man.  Not 
until  the  country  became  somewhat  thickly  inhabited,  and 
man  began  to  turn  his  attention  to  the  cultivation  of  the 
soil,  would  land  itself  come  to  be  regarded  as  property ; 
and  then  only  as  each  occupant  expended  labor  on  the  soil, 
and  mingled  his  products  with  it,  would  he  acquire  a  right 
of  individual  appropriation. 

Accordingly,  among  the  earlier  and  less  civilized  nations, 
we  find  no  trace  of  property  in  land.  The  North  Amer¬ 
ican  native  tribes  seem  to  have  known  nothing  of  it.  The 
Scythians,  while  they  appropriated  cattle  and  horses,  left 
their  land  in  common.  When  Caesar  invaded  Britain,  he 
seems  to  have  found  no  traces  of  property  in  land.  This 
species  of  property  came  to  be  a  permanent  possession, 
probably,  not  until  the  organization  of  society,  and  of  civil 
government,  fixing  by  law  the  right  of  the  individual  to 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  159 


the  soil  he  cultivated.  Previously,  it  was  property  only  by 
possession  and  actual  occupancy.  , 

Property  as  Regulated  by  Law.  —  Inasmuch  as  land  is 
less  obviously  the  property  of  an  individual  than  are  those 
possessions  which  he  can  carry  with  him  from  jdace  to 
place,  and  as  the  right  of  ownership  is,  therefore,  main¬ 
tained  with  more  difficulty,  this  species  of  property  is  made 
more  directly  and  peculiarly  the  object  of  legislation.  The 
ancient  law  of  England  regards  land  as  the  chief  part  of 
property,  all  other  things  being  treated  as  only  appendages 
to  persons.  Hence  the  distinctive  terms,  real  property* 
and  personal  property. 

The  cultivator  and  the  proprietor  of  the  soil  are  not 
always  the  same  person,  nor  of  the  same  class.  In  such  a 
case  the  rights  of  each  are  determined  by  law  —  the  culti¬ 
vator  giving  to  the  proprietor  a  certain  share  of  the  pro¬ 
ceeds,  which  is  termed  rent.  This  may  be  given  va  produce, 
as  in  Asia,  where  the  proprietor,  usually  the  sovereign, 
receives  one-fifth,  commonly,  of  whatever  is  raised  on  the 
land  ;  or,  it  may  be  in  labor,  as  in  Russia  and  Germany, 
where  the  peasant  pays  his  rent  by  working  a  definite 
portion  of  his  time  for  the  exclusive  benefit  of  the  land¬ 
lord.  The  cultivator  is  then  termed  a  serf.  In  other 
countries  of  Europe  one-half  the  produce  of  the  land 
goes  to  the  owner  of  the  soil,  one-half  to  the  cultivator. 
In  England,  between  the  landlord  and  the  cultivator,  we 
find  an  intermediate  class,  termed  farmers,  who  give  to  the 
owner  of  the  soil  his  rent,  and  to  the  laborer  his  wages, 
retaining  what  is  left  after  these  deductions  as  their  own 
profit. 

F eudal  System.  —  There  prevailed  for  some  centuries  in 
Europe,  a  system  of  land  tenure,  according  to  which  the 


160  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 

proprietor  held  himself  bound  to  protect  the  laborer  as 
against  other  persons,  and  the  laborer  in  turn  was  bound 
to  render  to  his  superior  certain  fixed  and  valuable  ser¬ 
vices.  The  relation  of  the  two  was  one  of  mutual  depend¬ 
ence,  the  lord  requiring  the  service  of  the  vassal,  and  the 
latter  the  protection  of  the  lord.  On  this  condition  the 
vassal  held  certain  lands  as,  in  a  modified  sense,  his  own  — 
paying  fixed  dues  to  the  lord,  and  yielding  also  personal 
service  as  a  soldier  in  arms.  The  land  thus  held  by  the 
laborer  was  termed  a  Feud ,  or  Fee  ;  hence  the  expression, 
Feudal  System.  The  land  thus  held  was  not  the  absolute 
property  of  the  laborer,  however,  nor  yet  even  of  the  lord; 
but  its  ultimate  ownership  vested  in  the  sovereign.  The 
laborer  who  held  no  fees  or  feuds,  was  termed  a  Villein , 
and  was  little  better  than  a  serf. 

§  V.  —  Crimes  against  Property. 

There  are  three  principal  modes  in  which  the  right  of 
property  may  be  violated.  One  may  take  what  belongs  to 
another,  clandestinely,  without  the  owner’s  knowledge. 
This  is  theft.  Or,  he  may  take  it  by  violence,  as  when  a 
highwayman  presents  a  pistol  and  demands  money,  or 
when  a  band  of  armed  men  storm  a  castle,  or  ravage  a 
territory,  and  plunder  its  treasures.  This  is  robbery.  Or, 
yet  again,  the  consent  of  the  owner  may  be  fraudulently 
obtained,  by  deceiving  him  as  to  the  real  nature,  or  the 
market  value,  of  the  commodity  offered. 

Theft.  —  To  take  the  property  of  another  without  his 
knowledge,  and  full,  free  consent,  with  design  to  appropriate 
it  to  our  own  use,  is  a  violation  of  the  right  of  property, 
and  is  justly  regarded  as  a  crime.  It  matters  little  whether 
the  amount  thus  clandestinely  appropriated  be  large  or 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO’PROPERTY. 


161 


small,  whether  it  be  of  great  or  trifling  value,  whether  its 
loss  will  be  severely  felt -by  the  owner  or  not ;  in  any  case 
it  is  a  violation  of  right,  and,  as  regards  the  moral  character 
of  the  act,  it  is  essentially  one  and  the  same.  Even  if  it 
should  so  happen  that  the  owner  has  no  objection  to  the 
transfer,  still,  so  long  as  we  presume  upon  this  willingness, 
without  first  obtaining  his  consent,  we  are  guilty  of  theft. 

Robbery,  —  In  case  of  violence  offered  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  consent  not  otherwise  given,  the  crime  is  ag¬ 
gravated.  The  double  offence  is  committed,  of  violence 
to  the  person,  and  violation  of  the  property.  I  have  no 
right  to  threaten  the  life  or  personal  safety  of  another ;  no 
right  to  take  his  property ;  still  less  a  right  to  accomplish 
the  latter  object  by  means  of  the  former.  The  offence  is 
aggravated,  and  deserves,  and  is  everywiiere  held  to 
deserve,  the  severest  punishment.  To  compel  consent  by 
means  of  violence,  is  a  greater  crime  than  to  take  the 
property  by  force,  and  without  the  semblance  of  consent. 

Cheating .  —  But  it  is  not  enough  that  consent  be  at¬ 
tained,  and  that  it  be  freely  given  ;  this  may  be,  and  still 
the  right  of  property  be  violated.  That  consent  must  be 
honestly  and  not  fraudulently  obtained,  else  the  trans¬ 
action  is  criminal.  The  greater  part  of  the  crimes  against 
property  are  of  this  nature.  The  number  of  burglars, 
thieves,  highway  robbers,  is  small,  in  comparison  with  the 
number  of  those  who,  in  business  transactions,  hesitate 
not  to  cheat  and  defraud  their  fellow-men.  The  latter  are 
as  really  guilty  of  crime,  though  not  perhaps,  in  some 
respects,  of  so  great  a  crime,  as  the  former;  nor  is  the  one 
a  more  respectable  and  honorable  mode  of  procedure 
than  the  other.  The  command,  “Thou  shalt  not  steal.” 
is  as  really  broken  in  the  one  case  as  the  other.  Nor  has 

14* 


162  DUTIES  PERTAINING  fO  PROPERTY. 

lie  wlio  cheats  his  fellow  in  a  small  way,  and  under  cover 
of  a  business  transaction,  the  same  apology  for  his  crime 
that  the  more  daring  offender  may  often  urge.  The  man 
who  breaks  into  my  house,  or  who  demands  my  purse  on 
the  highway,  may  be  driven  to  his  desperate  course  by  want 
and  absolute  starvation.  The  man  who,  pretending  fair 
and  honorable  commerce,  cheats  me  out  of  a  few  pennies, 
can  plead  no  such  apology  for  his  dishonesty  and  meanness. 

Modes  of  Cheating .  —  There  are  various  modes  in  which 
this  species  of  dishonesty  may  be  practised.  It  may  be 
done  by  presenting  for  sale  goods  that  are  damaged,  or  in 
some  way  inferior  to  what  they  seem  and  are  taken  to  be, 
deficient  in  quality  or  in  quantity,  a  poorer  article  than  we 
represent,  and  than  we  intend  that  the  buyer  shall  suppose. 
This  is  as  really  a  fraud  as  if  we  were  slyly  to  abstract  just 
so  much  in  value  from  the  jiocket  of  the  purchaser. 

Another  mode  is  to  mislead  the  buyer  as  to  the  market 
price  of  the  article  sold.  When  a  man  devotes  himself 
to  the  business  of  exchanges,  he  is  understood  to  possess 
some  skill  in  the  matter  of  purchasing,  and  to  receive  a 
fair  compensation  for  that  skill,  as  well  as  for  his  time  and 
trouble ;  he  is  understood  also  to  furnish  goods  at  the 
ordinary  market  prices.  If,  now,  his  skill  in  any  particu- 
lar  instance  fails  him ;  if  he  finds  that  he  has  purchased  at 
a  given  price  what  is  not  really  worth  so  much ;  or  if,  the 
article  being  good,  the  price  falls  while  it  is  upon  his 
hands,  he  has  no  right  to  remunerate  himself  at  the  ex¬ 
pense  of  his  customers  —  no  right  to  take  advantage  of 
their  ignorance,  and  sell  to  them  at  a  price  beyond  the 
real  value,  on  the  ground  that  it  cost  him  at  that  rate. 
This  is  to  deceive  the  customer,  and,  in  reality,  to  defraud 
him.  If  the  trader  is  at  liberty  to  reap  the  benefit  of  a 
rise  of  prices  while  the  goods  are  in  his  possession,  he  is, 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


163 


on  the  same  principle,  bound  to  give  the  buyer  the  benefit 
of  an  accidental  decline  of  prices.  if,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  adopts  the  rule  of  selling  as  he  bought,  he  is  bound  to 
apply  it  equally  to  both  cases,  and  give  the  customer  the 
benefit  of  a  purchase  below  the  present  market  price. 

It  is  always  understood  that  the  trader  furnishes  his 
goods  at  the  ruling  price  in  the  market.  He  takes  care 
to  have  this  understood.  His  credit  and  success  depend 
on  it.  Hence  he  is  bound  to  fulfill  an  expectation  in  itself 
so  reasonable  and  universal,  and  which  he  has  himself 
contributed  to  form.  This  obligation  is  violated,  not 
merely  by  assuring  the  customer  that  he  can  procure  the 
article  in  question  nowhere  at  a  cheaper  rate,  —  which, 
in  the  case  supposed,  would  be  a  direct  falsehood,  —  but 
equally  by  silence ;  since  where  nothing  is  said,  the  buyer 
presumes,  and  has  a  right  to  presume,  that  he  is  giving 
only  the  ordinary  market  price. 

False  Information .  —  Closely  allied  to  this  very  com¬ 
mon  species  of  dishonesty  is  another — the  circulating  false 
information  respecting  the  value,  quantity,  or  price  of  any 
kind  of  goods,  with  a  view  to  effect  the  sale ;  as,  for  ex, 
ample,  when  the  stock  broker,  by  false  reports  circulated 
on  ’Change,  seeks  to  raise  or  depress  the  price  of  stocks ; 
or  when  the  speculator,  monopolizing  a  given  article,  con¬ 
veys  the  impression  of  a  scarcity,  when  in  reality  there 
is  an  abundance  of  that  commodity.  This  latter  method 
of  procedure  becomes  the  more  culpable  when  it  affects, 
not  the  luxuries  and  conveniences,  but  the  very  necessa¬ 
ries  of  life,  as  in  the  case  of  monopolies  of  flour  and  grain. 

Monopoly.  —  The  question  may  here  arise,  whether, 
aside  from  any  false  impression  thus  conveyed  of  a  scarcity 
which  does  not  really  exist,  the  monopolizing  an  article  of 
trade  for  the  purpose  of  raising  the  price,  is  in  itself  a 


164  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 

species  of  dishonesty.  Suppose  a  merchant,  for  example, 
to  purchase  all  the  ivory,  or  all  the  indigo,  or  saltpetre 
in  the  market ;  suppose  him  to  extend  his  transactions  in 
this  line  to  all  the  commercial  cities  in  the  country,  pur¬ 
chasing  all  that  can  be  procured,  wherever  found  ;  suppose 
him  then  to  raise  the  price  of  the  article,  depending  on 
the  demand  to  ensure  a  sale  at  the  advanced  rate.  Where, 
it  maybe  asked,  is  the  dishonesty  of  such  a  proceeding? 
Everything  is  fair  and  open  in  the  transaction.  The  mer¬ 
chant  has  simply  to  say,  I  hold  in  my  possession  such  and 
such  goods,  and  you  can  have  them  if  you  like  at  such  a 
price.  It  is  true  they  have  been  often  sold  at  a  much 
lower  price,  but  they  are  not  now  to  be  obtained  except 
at  the  rate  mentioned.  Buy,  or  not,  as  you  jdease.  What 
is  there  of  dishonesty  in  this  ? 

I  cannot  see  that  there  is,  properly  speaking,  any  dishon¬ 
esty  or  fraud  in  such  a  proceeding.  It  is  not  deception; 
it  is  not  cheating.  The  goods  are  offered  at  what  is,  for 
the  time,  the  market  value,  —  that  is,  they  cannot,  for  the 
present,  be  obtained  for  less,  in  other  markets.  In  a 
word,  the  merchant  in  question  has  it  in  his  power  to  iix 
the  market  value  of  the  goods,  and  does  so.  This  lie  cer¬ 
tainly  has  the  right  to  do,  in  the  case  supposed.  If  the 
articles  in  question  were  necessaries  of  life,  he  would  have 
no  moral  right  to  establish  a  monopoly,  and  then  fix  on 
them  a  price  that  should  place  them  beyond  the  reach  of 
all  except  the  rich.  But  such  is  not  the  case  supposed. 

But,  while  we  may  not  class  such  a  transaction  with  the 
various  forms  of  dishonest  dealings,  it  must  be  admitted 
that  public  sentiment,  and  the  common  sense  of  mankind, 
very  generally  disapprove  of  this  method  of  procedure, 
as  not  altogether  just  and  honorable.  It  is  taking  what 
seems  to  be  an  undue  advantage  of  the  community.  The 
profession  of  the  merchant  is  one  that  is  supposed  to  be 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY.  165 


for  the  public  good.  He  comes  between  the  producer 
and  the  consumer,  for  the  advantage  of  both.  It  is  better 
for  both  that  there  should  be  a  class  of  men  who  shall 
devote  themselves  to  the  business  of  exchanges.  But 
when  the  merchant,  talfmg  advantage  of  his  position, 
puts  upon  his  goods  such  a  price  that  the  community 
is  rather  injured  than  benefited  by  his  transactions,  no 
reason  can  be  shown  why  such  a  business  or  profession 
should  exist.  The  public  good  requires  that  it  should 
cease  to  be. 

Dishonesty  of  the  Buyer .  —  It  is  hardly  necessary  to 
remark  that  the  same  rule  applies  to  the  buyer  as  to  the 
seller.  He  is  under  obligation  to  pay  a  fair  profit  to  the 
trader,  in  remuneration  for  the  skill,  labor,  and  capital 
employed  by  the  latter  in  the  business  of  purchasing; 
and  any  attempt  to  defraud  him  of  this  remuneration,  by 
any  of  the  tricks  of  trade,  or  by  underrating  the  true 
value  of  the  goods,  is  a  species  of  dishonesty. 

Excuses .  —  The  various  modes  of  dishonest  dealing 
which  have  been  mentioned,  are  frequently  justified,  by 
those  who  employ  them,  on  the  ground  that  such  prac¬ 
tices  are  nearly  universal ;  that  if  they  did  not  practise 
them,  others  would  ;  that  the  competition  is  so  great,  that 
they  could  do  no  business  ;  that  in  no  other  way  can  they 
live,  and  support  their  families.  I  reply  :  these  excuses  — 
even  granting  the  validity  of  the  statements  —  make  the 
practices  in  question  none  the  less  immoral  and  dishonest. 
If  every  other  person  employed  in  the  traffic  cheats  his 
customers,  by  giving  them  light  weight  and  short  measure, 
diluted  and  adulterated  liquors,  damaged  in  place  of  per¬ 
fect  articles,  or  by  selling  at  a  higher  than  the  true  market 
value,  it  is  none  the  less  a  fraud  for  me  to  do  the  same. 
If  the  competition  is  such  that  I  cannot  carry  on  the 


166  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  PROPERTY. 


business  without  resorting  to  such  artifices,  it  is  quite 
time  that.  I  was  out  of  it,  and  in  some  more  honest 
employment.  As  to  the  argument  from  the  necessity  of 
living  and  supporting  one’s  family,  44  it  is  obvious,”  says 
Dr.  TT ayland,  44  that,  were  this  ^)lea  allowed,  it  would  put 
an  end  to  all  questions  of  morals  ;  for  there  never  was  an 
iniquity  so  infamous  as  not  to  find  multitudes  who  were 
ready  to  justify  it  on  this  plea.” 

Limitations  of  the  Light  of  Property .  —  In  this  connec¬ 
tion  may  be  noticed  certain  questions  respecting  the  limi¬ 
tation  of  the  right  of  property.  Cases  may  arise  in  which 
there  shall  seem  to  be  a  necessity  for  taking  the  property 
of  others  without  their  consent.  Of  the  risdit  of  the  state 

O 

to  take  so  much  of  the  land  of  any  citizen,  with  the  build¬ 
ings  and  improvements  thereon,  as  may  be  necessary  for 
the  public  good,  in  laying  out  roads  and  constructing  other 
public  works,  I  have  already  spoken.  Such  right  must  be 
conceded,  and  that  irrespective  of  the  owner’s  consent, 
though  not  without  a  fair  equivalent.  On  the  same  prin¬ 
ciple,  the  individual  is  bound  to  meet  his  given  proportion 
of  the  public  expenses,  in  the  shape  of  taxes ;  and  if  he 
refuses  to  do  so,  the  state  may  take  so  much  of  his  property 
as  is  necessary  for  this  purpose,  without  his  consent. 

But,  aside  from  these  and  the  like  instances,  in  which  the 
state  comes  into  conflict  with  the  citizen,  cases  may  arise 
in  which  the  private  individual,  or  a  company  of  individ¬ 
uals,  may  find  it  necessary,  in  order  to  the  preservation  of 
life,  to  appropriate  the  property  of  another.  A  ship  is  in 
a  storm  at  sea,  and,  in  order  to  the  preservation  of  all  on 
board,  it  may  be  necessary  to  throw  overboard  a  portion 
of  her  cargo.  That,  however,  is  private  property,  and  to 
obtain  the  consent  of  the  owner  is,  under  the  circumstances, 
impossible.  In  such  a  case,  no  one  can  hesitate.  Life  is 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION.  167 


more  valuable  than  property;  and  even  if  it  were  not,  the 
property  fares  no  worse  than  it  would  if  the  ship  went 
down  with  all  on  board.  It  will  be  lost,  in  either  case. 
Nothing  is  gained  to  the  owner  by  the  attempt  to  save  it. 

In  like  manner,  and  on  the  same  principle,  if  the  pro¬ 
visions  fail  in  a  ship,  and  the  passengers  are  in  danger 
of  starving,  there  can  be  no  question  that  they  have 
the  right  to  appropriate  so  much  as  may  be  necessary  of 
the  ship’s  cargo  to  their  own  support.  These,  and  the  like, 
are  cases  of  necessity,  against  which  there  can  be  no  law. 
Jurists  accordingly,  both  ancient  and  modern,  have  ad¬ 
mitted  that,  under  such  circumstances,  the  right  of  property 
must  give  way  to  higher  rights  and  interests.  Whether, 
under  other  and  ordinary  circumstances,  a  starving  man  has 
the  right  to  take  food  not  belonging  to  him,  may  admit  of 
question,  inasmuch  as  society  usually  makes  provision  for 
his  relief  in  another  mode. 


CHAPTER  IY. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION. 

Reputation  a  Right . — Among  the  springs  of  human 
action,  there  is  none  more  powerful,  or  more  universal, 
than  the  love  of  esteem.  It  has  its  seat  in  the  constitution 
of  our  nature.  Reputation  is  one  of  the  goods  which  every 
man  desires  to  get  and  to  keep ;  among  the  first  and  great¬ 
est,  indeed,  of  those  goods  —  than  which  no  possession  is 
more  valuable,  no  right  more  sacred.  A  good  name  is 
better  than  gold.  No  wealth  can  purchase  it;  once  lost, 
no  treasure  can  replace  it.  Hence  it  is  held  always  among 


168  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION. 

the  dearest  and  most  precious  of  earthly  possessions.  Its 
loss  may  entail  the  most  serious  consequences. 

Society  is  bound  to  protect  every  man  in  the  possession 
and  enjoyment  of  whatever  justly  belongs  to  him ;  hence 
it  is  bound  to  protect  him  in  this,  as  one  of  his  most  valu¬ 
able  and  sacred  rights.  This  is  a  principle  recognized  by 
the  laws  of  civilized  society,  both  ancient  and  modern. 
“  Est  enim  famae,  ut  et  vitae,  habenda  ratio”  —  Reputation, 
as  well  as  life,  is  to  be  regarded  in  law  —  was  a  maxim  of 
Roman  jurisprudence.  The  laws  of  England  and  of  our 
own  country,  in  like  manner,  take  cognizance  of  injuries 
affecting  the  reputation,  no  less  than  of  injuries  affecting 
the  property  and  the  life.  There  is  reason  and  justice  in 
this.  One  who  by  industry,  skill,  and  patient  toil,  has  built 
up  a  fortune,  is  justly  entitled  to  the  possession  and  enjoy¬ 
ment  of  the  same.  If  now,  by  the  same  industry  and  skill, 
he  has  acquired  a  reputation,  as  artist,  merchant,  or  profes¬ 
sional  man,  is  he  not  by  every  principle  of  justice  and  right 
entitled  equally  also  to  that?  And  is  not  the  latter  often 
much  the  more  valuable  acquisition  of  the  two?  To  di¬ 
minish  the  esteem  in  which  he  is  held,  and  rob  him  wholly 
or  in  part  of  his  justly  earned  reputation,  is  to  inflict  on 
him  a  much  more  serious  injury  than  to  rob  him  of  money. 

The  violation  of  the  right  now  under  consideration  is 
known  under  the  general  name  of  slander  /  and  in  treating 
of  this  crime,  it  will  be  to  our  purpose  to  define  what  this 
term  properly  includes;  to  inquire  further  what  the  law 
of  reputation  requires  and  forbids,  and  in  what  cases  it  is 
allowable  to  speak  to  the  injury  of  others;  and,  finally,  to 
show  reasons  why  we  should  not,  without  cause,  speak  evil 
of  any  one.  These  topics  will  be  severally  discussed  in 
the  following  sections. 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION.  169 


§  I.  —  Slander  Defined. 

I  understand  this  term  to  include  all  forms  of  detraction. 
It  is  the  utterance  of  anything  calculated  to  injure  the 
good  name  and  character  of  another,  without  due  cause, 
whether  maliciously,  or  inconsiderately.  The  utterance 
may  be  malicious  —  designed  to  injure.  An  enemy,  or  a 
rival,  may  take  that  way  to  gratify  his  revenge,  or  to  pull 
down  a  competitor  whom  he  cannot  successfully  encounter 
in  a  more  open  and  honorable  way.  This  is  the  height  of 
meanness,  and  a  crime  of  no  ordinary  turpitude. 

Or  the  act  may  be  an  inconsiderate  and  thoughtless  one. 
There  may  be  no  special,  set  design  to  injure  another’s  rep¬ 
utation.  The  mere  love  of  gossip,  the  desire  to  say  or  to 
hear  some  new  thing,  and  especially  the  gratification  which 
it  affords  to  one’s  self-esteem  and  self-complacency  to  dwell 
upon  the  foibles  and  weaknesses  of  others,  may  be  the  real 
motive  and  spring  of  action  ;  and  the  injury  which  is  to 
result  to  the  good  name  and  character  of  the  person  spoken 
of,  may  not  occur  to  the  speaker  at  the  moment.  This  is, 
however,  none  the  less  slander.  There  may  be  a  difference 
in  the  degree  of  guilt  in  the  two  cases,  but  both  are  crimes. 
The  consequences  are  much  the  same  in  either  case.  We 
cannot  excuse  ourselves  by  saying,  the  mischief  was  not 
intended.  A  proper  regard  for  duty,  and  for  the  rights 
of  others,  would  have  led  us  to  pause  before  we  uttered  the 
injurious  words,  and  to  look  at  the  consequences  of  what 
we  were  about  to  utter.  Our  forgetfulness  and  thoughtless¬ 
ness  of  consequences  by  no  means  frees  us  from  responsi¬ 
bility  from  those  consequences,  be  they  what  they  may. 

Nor  is  it  essential  that  the  thing  said  should  be  false,  in 
order  to  constitute  it  a  slander.  It  may  be  a  true  thing; 
yet,  if  maliciously  spoken,  with  design  to  injure,  or  even 
thoughtlessly  uttered,  without  due  and  sufficient  cause 

15 


170  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION. 


why  it  should  be  said,  it  is  none  the  less  slander.  No  one 
has  a  moral  right  to  injure  his  fellow,  without  cause,  even 
by  publishing  what  is  strictly  true  of  him.  Doubtless  there 
is  more  guilt  in  uttering  falsehood  maliciously,  than  in 
uttering  truth  maliciously ;  more  guilt  in  intentional  than 
in  inconsiderate  slander;  all  these,  however,  are  forms  of 
slander,  —  all  are  crimes. 

Perhaps  the  most  common  form  of  slander  is  that  where 
one  seeks  to  detract  from  the  good  opinion  which  a  friend, 
or  benefactor,  or  the  community,  entertain  of  a  person 
whom  he  dislikes ;  to  awaken  suspicion  or  distrust  with 
regard  to  him,  and  so  change  his  relation  to  the  parties 
concerned,  and  to  society.  In  a  thousand  ways  this  mis¬ 
chief  may  be  done,  this  object  accomplished.  With  due 
secrecy,  and  injunctions  of  secrecy  upon  those  to  whom  the 
disclosure  is  made ;  with  every  precaution  to  avoid  detec¬ 
tion  ;  what  is  more,  with  great  apparent  reluctance  to  make 
the  statements  which  are  made,  and  with  professions  of 
friendship  for  the  injured  party,  may  the  work  be  done. 
These  are  the  usual  subterfuges  and  pretences  of  the  slan¬ 
derer.  All  such  disguises  are  more  or  less  hypocritical,  and, 
as  Paley  has  well  remarked,  they  are  all  so  many  aggrava¬ 
tions  of  the  offence,  inasmuch  as  they  indicate  deliberation 
and  design. 


§11.  —  What  the  Law  of  Reputation  Forbids. 

From  the  definition  already  given  of  slander,  as  include 
ing  all  forms  of  detraction,  the  rule  itself,  of  which  this  is 
a  violation,  becomes  evident.  The  law  of  reputation  for¬ 
bids  us,  in  general,  to  say  anything,  without  imperative  rea¬ 
sons,  that  shall  detract  from  the  good  name  and  reputation 
of  another;  it  requires  us,  on  the  other  hand,  to  sustain  that 
good  name  and  reputation  by  all  due  and  proper  means. 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION.  171 


Making  public  the  Faults  of  Others.  —  More  specifi¬ 
cally,  it  forbids  us  needlessly  and  without  cause  to  give 
publicity  to  the  faults,  or  even  the  aggravated  offences 
of  others.  We  may  know  that  which  the  public  does 
not  know,  and  which,  if  it  were  known,  would  tend  very 
greatly  to  the  injury  of  the  individual  concerned.  Now, 
there  may  be  circumstances  which  would  require  us,  from 
a  regard  to  the  public  good,  or  for  other  reasons  which 
will  be  hereafter  considered,  to  disclose  the  facts  which 
have  come  to  our  knowledge.  But,  aside  from  these,  we 
have  no  right,  thoughtlessly,  needlessly,  without  weighty 
and  sufficient  reasons,  to  make  use  of  our  information  to 
the  discredit  and  injury  of  the  offending  party.  What¬ 
ever  publicity  he  may  give  to  his  own  actions,  and 
whatever,  in  the  natural  course  of  justice  and  of  divine 
providence,  they  may  acquire,  is  another  matter;  but  the 
mere  knowledge,  on  my  part,  that  he  has  acted  dishon¬ 
estly,  is  not  a  sufficient  reason  why  I  should  speak  of  it  to 
his  injury,  and  gives  me  no  right  to  do  so.  “  One  man,” 
says  Dr.  Hickok,  “has  no  right  to  be  injuring  the  good 
name  of  another,  even  by  reporting  that  which  may  be 
true  of  him,  unless  some  grave  interest  of  the  public  may 
demand  it.”  The  person  to  whose  injury  we  are  tempted 
to  speak,  may  be  himself  deeply  conscious  of  his  own 
faults,  and  earnestly  making  efforts  to  overcome  them. 
Or  the  particular  offence  that  we  have  in  mind  may  have 
been  committed  in  former  years,  and  under  circumstances 
of  peculiar  temptation  ;  it  may  be  something  of  which  he 
has  long  and  bitterly  repented,  and  from  which  his  whole 
subsequent  life  has  turned  away  utterly.  To  give  pub¬ 
licity  to  the  matter,  under  such  circumstances,  would  be 
to  work  infinite  mischief  and  causeless  ruin. 

Judging  of  the  Motives  of  Others.  —  On  the  same 
principle,  and  by  the  same  law  of  morality,  we  are  for- 


172  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION. 


bidden  to  judge  of  the  motives  of  others,  either  by  assign¬ 
ing  to  their  conduct  wrong  motives,  where  right  ones  may 
reasonably  be  supposed,  or  by  suggesting  that  the  action 
proceeds  from  some  other  motive  than  that  which  is 
apparent  and  professed.  We  have  no  right  to  suppose 
or  presume  any  such  thing.  The  motives  of  men  are  for 
the  most  part  known  only  to  Him  who  sees  the  heart. 
We  do  great  injustice  to  the  character  of  others,  when, 
on  such  imperfect  and  insufficient  data  as  we  have,  and 
without  due  cause,  we  set  aside  the  professed  intent  and 
design  of  an  action,  and  attribute  it  to  some  unworthy 
source.  We  like  not  to  be  ourselves  judged  in  that 
manner,  and  have  no  right  thus  to  judge  the  motives 
of  others. 

Holding  Others  up  to  Hidicule. —  Any  deliberate  at¬ 
tempt  to  bring  others  into  contempt,  by  ridicule  and  rail¬ 
lery,  and  thus  to  detract  from  the  esteem  in  which  they 
would  otherwise  be  held,  is  likewise  a  violation  of  the  rule. 
The  shafts  of  ridicule  are,  of  all  weapons  with  which  one’s 
reputation  may  possibly  be  assailed,  the  most  fatal  and 
venomous.  They  are  the  most  difficult  to  meet,  and  for 
this  reason  both  the  more  mischievous  and  the  more  cow¬ 
ardly.  On  this  point  the  remarks  of  Dr.  Wayland  are 
forcible  and  just:  “It  is  but  a  very  imperfect  excuse,  for 
conduct  of  this  sort,  to  plead  that  we  do  not  mean  any 
harm.  What  do  we  mean?  Surely  reasonable  beings 
should  be  prepared  to  answer  this  question.  Were  the 
witty  calumniator  to  stand  concealed,  and  hear  himself 
made  the  subject  of  remarks  precisely  similar  to  those  in 
which  he  indulges  respecting  others,  he  would  have  a 
very  definite  conception  of  what  others  mean.  Let  him 
then  carrv  the  lesson  home  to  his  own  bosom.” 

Misinterpreting  Others .  —  The  law  of  reputation  forbids 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION.  173 


us  likewise  to  put  a  wrong  construction  on  what  others 
say  and  do,  —  to  interpret  their  language  or  conduct  as 
meaning  one  thing,  while  in  reality  it  is  susceptible  of  a 
very  different  interpretation,  and  then  to  make  use  of  this 
false  and  forced  construction  to  the  injury  of  the  party 
concerned.  This  is  a  course  of  procedure  at  once  mis¬ 
chievous  and  despicable.  When  intentionally  done,  it  is 
do wright  dishonesty;  when  inadvertently,  it  is  still  a 
wrong  and  a  crime.  This  is  a  form  of  slander  to  which 
the  critic  and  literary  reviewer,  the  disputant,  the  con¬ 
troversial  writer,  are  too  frequently  tempted  to  resort,  in 
answering  an  opponent,  or  pointing  out  what  they  may 
regard  as  error.  The  words  and  statements  of  an  author 
are  wrested,  whether  consciously  or  inadvertently,  from 
their  true  meaning,  and  he  is  held  up  to  public  odium,  on 
charges  not  less  false  than  injurious.  Even  the  records  of 
theological  controversy  are  not,  it  is  to  be  feared,  wholly 
free  from  this  fault. 

In  what  Cases  Silence  not  required . —  Here  the  ques¬ 
tion  may  arise,  whether,  in  all  cases,  we  are  bound  to 
observe  silence  respecting  the  faults  or  crimes  of  others. 
Does  the  law  of  morality,  as  regards  reputation,  require  us 
in  all  cases  to  conceal  from  the  public  eye  what  we  may 
happen  to  know  that  is  derogatory  to  the  character  of 
another?  If  not,  then  what  are  the  exceptions? 

I  reply,  whenever  the  good  of  the  community  impera¬ 
tively  requires  the  exposure  of  the  faults  or  follies,  the 
mistakes  or  crimes  of  another,  then  is  the  law  of  reputa¬ 
tion  superseded,  set  aside  by  a  higher  claim,  and  we 
are  at  liberty  to  make  known  what  has  come  to  our 
observation ;  but  not  otherwise.  Thus,  for  example,  a 
man  may  be  enjoying  a  higher  reputation  as  a  scholar, 
a  man  of  scien^  or  for  virtue  and  general  worth,  than  he 

15* 


174  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION. 

may  seem  to  me  to  deserve.  •  That  gives  me  no  right  to 
diminish  his  reputation,  and  bring  him  down  to  the  level 
which,  in  my  opinion,  he  ought  to  occupy.  His  reputation 
is  his  own  acquirement  and  possession,  and  he  has  the 
right  to  enjoy  it.  If,  however,  this  involves  manifest 
injustice  to  another,  then  there  is  adequate  cause  for  inter¬ 
ference,  and  for  setting  the  matter  right.  So,  in  like 
manner,  if  I  have  reason  to  suppose  that  any  person  is 
plotting  the  injury  of  another,  or  of  the  community,  I 
have  no  right  to  keep  silence,  out  of  regard  to  his  repu¬ 
tation.  Or  if  a,  crime  has  been  committed,  and  I  know 
the  authors,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  be  silent  where  the 
ends  of  public  justice  and  the  public  good  require  the 
disclosure  of  the  guilty.  These  ends  are  of  still  higher 
moment  than  personal  reputation,  and  the  law  of  proce¬ 
dure  in  all  such  cases  is  plain. 

§  III.  —  Reasons  for  Observing  the  Law  of  Reputation 

% 

The  law  which  has  been  stated  as  binding  upon  us,  in 
the  matter  of  speaking  to  the  injury  of  others,  is  by  no 
means  a  law  without  a  reason.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
enforced  by  considerations  of  the  most  weighty  and 
imperative  character. 

Baseness  of  Slander .  —  One  reason  why  we  should  not, 
without  adequate  cause,  speak  evil  of  any  one,  is,  the  base - 
ness  of  so  doing.  Slander  is  justly  regarded  as  one  of  the 
basest  and  meanest  of  crimes.  Some  crimes  find  their 
apology  in  the  strength  of  the  natural  appetite  which 
prompts  to  their  commission.  But  no  man  can  plead,  I  sup¬ 
pose,  a  natural  appetite  for  slander;  and  even  if  he  should, 
it  would  not  be  likely  to  raise  him  in  our  esteem,  or  to  be 
taken  as  an  excuse  for  his  crime.  Slander  injures  another, 
without  benefit  to  one’s  self;  destroys  and  lays  waste 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  REPUTATION.  175 


without  cause,  wantonly,  and  for  the  mere  sake  of  mis¬ 
chief.  It  is  evil  inflicted  gratuitously,  and  for  the  evil’s 
own  sake.  It  is  a  course  prompted  by  envy,  or  the  desire 
of  revenue.  It  has  its  source  in  the  darkest  and  most 
malignant  passions  and  principles  of  our  fallen  nature. 
There  is  nothing  noble  or  magnanimous  about  it.  It  is  a 
false,  dishonorable,  cowardly  thing.  No  man  can  be  guilty 
of  it  and  retain  self-respect,  or  the  respect  of  others.  He 
sinks  himself  in  the  estimation  of  all  honorable  men,  and 
brands  himself  with  the  ignominy  which  he  vainly  seeks 
to  fasten  upon  his  victim. 

Effect  on  the  Community .  —  It  is  to  be  considered,  also, 
what  would  be  the  effect  on  the  community,  were  men  to 
indulge  freely  in  the  habit  of  speaking  evil  one  of  another, 
and  exposing  one  another’s  faults  and  follies,  without  ad¬ 
equate  cause.  Manifestly  such  a  state  of  society  would 
be  almost  intolerable.  No  one  is  free  from  faults ;  and  if 
every  one  were  at  liberty  to  expose  to  the  public  gaze  the 
imperfections  and  weaknesses  of  all  with  whom  he  is  con¬ 
versant,  scandal  must  become  the  order  of  the  day,  and 
the  great  staple  of  conversation.  Universal  suspicion  and 
distrust  would  be  awakened ;  the  tenderest  and  most 
sacred  relations  of  life  would  be  involved ;  and  all  social 
intercourse  and  organization  must  speedily  come  to  an 
end.  Nothing  so  weakens  the  restraints  of  crime  and  the 
regard  for  public  virtue,  as  free  converse  of  the  failings 
and  follies  of  others,  especially  of  those  who  stand  high  in 
public  estimation  as  persons  of  worth  and  character. 

Duty  of  the  Citizen  and  of  the  Press.  —  It  is  incum¬ 
bent,  then,  on  every  good  citizen,  as  he  values  the  public 
welfare,  the  order  and  harmony  and  virtue  of  the  com¬ 
munity,  to  abstain  from  the  needless  utterance  of  that 
which  would  tend  to  derogate  from  the  respect  in  which 


IT 6  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


another  is  held ;  and  not  only  to  abstain  from  this  himself, 
but  to  discountenance  it  in  others,  and  brand  it  with  his 
disapprobation  and  scorn.  Especially  is  this  incumbent  on 
the  public  press.  It  is  bad  enough  to  give  publicity  to  the 
failings  of  others  in  the  limited  circle  of  one’s  private 
acquaintance ;  it  is  a  greater  mischief  and  a  greater  crime 
to  publish  them  to  the  world.  How  sad  the  spectacle, 
when  the  press  of  a  nation  debases  itself  to  the  low  work 
of  slandering  a  political  opponent  or  party,  or  of  giving 
needless  publicity  to  the  failings  of  men  high  in  authority 
and  public  esteem ! 


CHAPTER  V. 

DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


Evidence  that  Veracity  is  a  Duty.  —  Among  the  duties 
which  we  owe  to  society,  is  that  of  speaking  the  truth  in 
our  varied  intercourse  with  our  fellow-men.  That  this  is 
a  duty,  is  evident  from  the  demands  of  our  moral  nature, 
from  the  whole  structure  and  framework  of  society,  which 
in  a  measure  depends  on  and  presupposes  this  duty,  as 
well  as  from  the  explicit  commands  of  God’s  word.  We 
are  so  constituted  as  to  place  confidence  in  the  testimony 
of  our  fellow-men  ;  and  our  moral  nature,  our  sense  of 
right  and  justice,  is  violated  when  we  find  ourselves  de¬ 
ceived.  We  are  also  naturally  inclined  to  speak  the 
truth,  and  it  is  only  under  strong  temptations  to  the  con¬ 
trary  that  we  are  induced  to  pursue  an  opposite  course. 
Whenever  we  yield  to  these  inducements,  our  moral  na¬ 
ture  is  violated;  we  are  conscious  of  wrong  and  self-deg- 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY.  177 


radation  ;  we  are  cast  down  from  our  integrity.  This 
moral  nature,  this  disposition  to  credit  others,  this  im¬ 
pulse  to  truthfulness,  this  loss  of  self-esteem  and  con¬ 
sciousness  of  wrong  when  we  deviate  from  the  truth  in 
our  statements,  is  in  itself  an  indication  of  the  will  of  the 
Creator,  too  plain  to  be  mistaken.  '  This  nature  of  ours 
is  his  workmanship. 

The  effects,  moreover,  which  would  result  if  truth  were 
to  be  abandoned  in  the  intercourse  of  man  with  man,  the 
disastrous  consequences  to  society  of  that  general  distrust 
and  want  of  confidence  which  would  necessarily  ensue, 
may  be  taken  as  evidence  of  the  will  of  the  Deity,  and 
of  the  obligation  of  veracity. 

To  this  have  been  added  the  explicit  declarations  of 
Scripture,  forbidding,  in  the  plainest  and  most  positive 
terms,  deceit  and  falsehood,  and  assuring  us  that  lying 
lips  are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord.  Into  that  heavenly 
felicity  which  awaits  the  righteous,  there  can  in  nowise 
enter,  we  are  told,  anything  that  maketh  a  lie. 

We  can  hardly  be  mistaken,  then,  in  regarding  veracity 
as  a  duty. 

In  treating  of  it,  our  inquiries  may  have  reference  to 
truthfulness  in  ordinary  discourse,  or  as  regards  the  prom¬ 
ises  made  between  man  and  man,  or  in  the  more  solemn 
form  of  the  judicial  oath. 

§  I. — Truthfulness  in  Common  Discourse. 

Where  lies  the  Obligation  to  this. —  That  we  are  under 
obligation  to  speak  the  truth  in  the  ordinary  conversation 
and  social  intercourse  of  life,  is  hardly  to  be  questioned. 
A  question  may  arise,  however,  as  to  what  constitutes ,  or 
where  lies  that  obligation.  Dr.  Paley  places  it  on  the 
ground  of  virtual  promise.  Truth  is  expected,  and  con- 


178  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


versation  implies  a  tacit  promise  to  meet  that  expecta¬ 
tion  ;  otherwise  we  should  not  be  at  the  trouble  of  con¬ 
versing.  “A  lie  is  a  breach  of  promise.” 

The  pernicious  consequences  which,  directly  and  indi¬ 
rectly,  result  to  society  and  to  the  individual  from  the  want 
of  truthfulness  in  discourse,  may  also  be  regarded  as  con¬ 
stituting  an  obligation  to  veracity.  A  lie  destroys  the 
confidence  of  man  in  man,  and  so  strikes  at  the  very 
foundations  of  society.  It  is  pernicious,  and  wholly  so  in 
its  tendency.  The  business  of  life  would  be  at  once  in¬ 
terrupted,  and  all  social  intercourse  destroyed,  if  false¬ 
hood,  and  not  truth,  were  to  become  the  rule  and  basis 
of  human  discourse. 

The  individual  suffers,  no  less  than  society,  from  any 
violation  of  the  law  of  truth.  The  spiritual  nature  is 
degraded,  and  moral  principle  weakened,  if  not  destroyed, 
by  every  such  violation.  At  the  same  time,  the  highest 
indignity  is  offered  to  the  moral  nature  of  others.  The 
attempt  at  deception  and  imposition  which  every  false 
statement  involves,  is  in  itself  an  insult  of  the  grossest 
nature,  to  whomsoever  it  is  offered.  Every  honorable 
man  so  regards  it. 

o 

We  need,  then,  inquire  no  further  for  the  ground  of 
obligation  to  speak  the  truth  in  all  our  converse  with  our 
fellow-men. 

« 

Lies  Defined.  —  The  crime  against  the  laws  of  veracity 
in  common  discourse,  is  known  under  the  general  name 
of  a  lie .  But  what  exactly  constitutes  a  lie?  Are  all 
untrue  statements  lies  ?  Evidently  not.  A  lie  is  the  ut¬ 
terance  of  an  untruth  with  intention  to  deceive.  The 
deception  is  the  essential  element.  Now,  in  very  many 
cases,  where  statements  are  made  that  are  not  according 
to  strict  truth,  there  is  no  intention  to  deceive,  and  no 
actual  deception.  Of  this  nature  are  parables,  fictions, 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


179 


dramas,  allegories,  and  all  that  class  of  writings,  as  also 
the  burlesque,  and  other  species  of  wit.  The  intention 
of  the  author  is  simply  to  amuse,  or,  at  most,  to  convey 
instruction,  through  the  medium  of  the  fiction,  and  the 
interest  thus  awakened ;  and  it  is  understood,  from  the 
first,  that  the  course  of  the  story  is  not  an  exact  narrative 
of  events  that  have  actually  happened,  in  the  precise  order 
and  manner  as  there  described.  The  statements  are  not 
according  to  strict  truth,  yet  there  is  no  intention  to  de¬ 
ceive.  They  are  in  one  sense  false,  yet  they  are  not  lies. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  some  lies  that  are  not 
properly  falsehoods.  Some  truths,  even,  are  lies.  When 
uttered  with  intention  to  deceive,  they  are  virtually  lies. 
A  statement  may  be  true  literally,  and  in  the  exact  sense, 
and  yet  not  true  in  the  sense  in  which  the  hearer  or 
reader  is  likely  to  understand  it;  and  if  I  take  acl van 
tage  of  this  purposely  to  deceive  him,  although  my  state* 
ment  may  be  strictly  true,  yet,  as  I  use  it,  and  intend  if 
to  be  taken,  it  is  really  a  lie.  Of  this  nature  are  very 
many  of  the  prevarications,  subterfuges,  and  reserved 
meanings,  which  have  been  justified  by  casuists,  especially 
of  the  Romish  faith. 

Not  of  necessity  Oral .  —  It  is  not  essential  to  a  lie,  that 
it  be  an  oral,  or  even  a  written  statement.  It  may  be 
expressed  in  signs,  which  are  intelligible  as  a  medium  of 
communication,  and  which,  as  in  the  case  of  the  deaf 
mute,  may  constitute  in  fact  a  language  in  themselves. 
A  lie  may  be  acted,  as  well  as  spoken.  When,  in  answer 
to  a  question,  I  reply  by  means  of  a  look,  a  movement  of 
the  arm,  a  turning  of  the  head,  a  pointing  of  the  finger  — 
that  is  my  statement,  my  answer;  and  it  is  either  true  or 
false.  In  the  latter  case  it  means  deception,  if  it  means 
anything,  and  is,  therefore,  a  lie.  Nay,  more  ;  even  silence 
may  be  itself  a  lie.  The  simple  omission  or  suppression 


180  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


of  the  truth,  may  be  as  real  deception,  and  may  as  really 
be  so  intended,  as  the  statement  of  the  opposite.  If,  in 
the  statement  of  evidence  before  a  jury,  I  omit  some  part 
essential  to  the  real  merit  and  aspect  of  the  case,  my  omis¬ 
sion  —  my  silence  —  is  a  virtual  falsehood,  and  that  with 
intent  to  deceive.  So  of  the  instance  mentioned  by  Dr. 
Paiey,  of  the  historical  writer,  who,  in  his  account  of  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  First,  should  suppress  any  evidence 
of  that  ruler’s  despotism ;  he  is  understood  to  be  relating 
the  whole  truth,  and  the  omission  of  an  important  part 
of  that  truth  may  justly  be  regarded  as  a  lie. 

Whether  Justifiable  in  any  Case.  —  Are  lies  ever  justi¬ 
fiable  ?  Are  we  in  all  cases  bound  to  speak  the  truth,  be 
the  consequences  what  they  may?  Suppose,  for  example, 
I  meet  a  madman,  or  a  robber,  who  threatens  personal 
violence :  shall  I  divert  him  from  his  object  by  telling  a 
falsehood,  and  thus  save  my  property,  or  my  life,  or,  per¬ 
haps,  the  lives  of  others  ?  According  to  Paiey,  a  false¬ 
hood  in  such  a  case  is  not  a  lie,  —  that  is,  is  not  criminal, 
—  because  no  great  harm  is  done.  The  immediate  conse¬ 
quence  is,  by  the  supposition,  beneficial;  and  the  worst 
that  can  happen  is  that  these  men,  once  deceived,  will 
not  be  likely  to  trust  me  again.  But  then,  as  they  are  not 
likely  to  come  again  in  my  way,  this  disadvantage,  he 
maintains,  does  not  outweigh  the  positive  advantage 
gained  by  the  falsehood. 

It  may  so  happen,  however,  that  some  one  else  shall 
meet  this  madman,  or  this  robber,  even  if  I  do  not ;  and 
in  consequence  of  my  falsehood,  and  the  distrust  thus 
awakened,  this  person  may  lose  his  life.  I  purchase  my 
own  safety,  in  such  a  case,  at  the  expense  of  the  safety 
of  others.  Because  my  statement  has  proved  false,  the 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


131 


statements  of  another,  even  when  speaking  the  truth,  may 
not  be  believed. 

A  False  Principle.  —  Besides  this,  the  principle  here 
assumed  is  a  false  one.  It  makes  the  obligation  to  speak 
the  truth  depend  on  the  inconvenience  resulting  from  false 
statements.  This  is  by  no  means  the  case.  If  this  were 
so,  there  were  an  end  to  all  morality.  If  the  truth  may 
be  set  aside,  and  falsehood  uttered  in  its  place,  whenever 
it  shall  seem  to  be,  on  the  whole,  for  the  advantage  of  the 
speaker  so  to  do,  —  when  there  is  some  end  to  be  gained 
by  it  which  to  him  is  of  some  importance,  —  the  law  of  ve¬ 
racity  is  not  merely  weakened,  but  essentially  destroyed. 
If  there  is  no  higher  obligation  to  truth,  or  any  other 
virtue,  than  the  advantages  immediately  resulting  from 
it ;  and  if  it  is  left  to  the  individual,  in  every  case,  to  de¬ 
cide  whether  it  is,  on  the  whole,  more  expedient  for  him 
in  the  present  instance  to  practise  virtue  or  its  opposite,  — - 
then  the  whole  system  of  morality  rests,  it  must  be  con¬ 
fessed,  on  a  very  precarious  basis.  Under  the  influence 
of  passion,  of  fear,  of  strong  temptation,  it  can  hardly  be 
doubtful  how,  in  most  cases,  men  will  decide.  The  pres¬ 
ent  gain  will  outweigh  the  ultimate  advantage,  and  vice 
will  be  preferred  to  virtue.  Men  will  do  evil  that  good 
may  come;  they  will  justify  their  crimes  by  the  plea  that 
great  advantage  is  to  result.  This  is  the  principle  of  the 
casuist  and  the  bigot,  in  all  ages,  that  the  end  justifies  the 
means. 

But,  it  may  be  said,  the  person  to  whom  we  speak  has 
no  right  to  demand  information :  are  we,  in  that  case, 
under  obligation  to  inform  him  ?  I  reply  :  we  may  be 
under  no  obligation,  perhaps,  to  give  him  information 
which  he  is  not  entitled  to  ask ;  but  this  does  not  author¬ 
ize  us  to  tell  him  a  falsehood,  in  place  of  the  truth.  We 

16 


182  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 

are  not  obliged  to  answer  his  inquiries  at  all;  but,  if  we 
do,  we  have  no  right  to  tell  him  a  lie. 

It  should  be  remembered,  moreover,  that  even  though 
there  may  be  no  obligation  on  our  part  to  the  questioner , 
we  may,  nevertheless,  owe  it  to  ourselves ,  to  speak  the 
truth,  and  that  only.  He  who  puts  the  question  is  not 
the  only  person  to  be  regarded  in  the  case.  Something 
is  due  to  our  own  sense  of  honor  and  self-respect,  and 
to  that  unblemished  integrity  of  character,  at  the  loss  of 
which  even  life  itself  were  dearly  purchased. 

Objection.  —  It  may  be  said  that,  where  life  is  in  dam 
ger,  the  right  of  self-defence,  which  has  already  been  con¬ 
ceded,  involves  the  right  of  deception  and  falsehood,  if 
necessary  to  the  preservation  of  life.  If  I  may  justly  kill 
my  assailant,  in  order  to  save  my  own  life,  why  may  I 
not  lie,  in  order  to  save  it?  Falsehood  is  surely  not  a 
greater  crime  than  the  taking  of  human  life.  To  this  I 
reply,  that  the  right  of  self-protection  from  lawless  vio¬ 
lence  does  not  necessarily  imply  the  right  to  defend  our¬ 
selves  in  all  possible  ways,  and  under  all  circumstances. 
There  may  be  methods  of  defence  which  are  not  justifi¬ 
able,  and  this  may  be  one  of  them.  It  is  only  in  extreme 
cases,  as  when  I  must  either  kill  or  be  killed,  that  the  law 
of  self-defence  allows  me  to  take  the  life  of  mv  assailant. 
In  such  a  case,  by  the  very  supposition,  falsehood  will  not 
answer  the  purpose.  But,  even  if  it  would,  it  does  not 
follow  that  the  right  to  defend  myself  or  others  from  law¬ 
less  violence,  by  opposing  force  to  force  and  weapon  to 
weapon,  involves  the  right  to  protect  myself  or  them  in 
another  and  a  very  different  manner,  viz.,  by  falsehood. 
There  is  a  meanness  and  dishonor  about  the  latter  course, 
in  stooping  to  which,  even  to  save  life  itself,  I  incur  a -self- 
degradation  and  self-contempt,  which,  to  the  high-minded 
and  honorable  spirit,  will  justly  seem  one  of  the  greatest 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACST* 


calamities.  It  does  not  follow,  that  because  I  have  the 
right  to  protect  my  person  and  my  life  by  a  manly  and 
vigorous  defence,  I  therefore  have  the  right  to  do  so  by 
resorting  to  a  mean  and  dishonorable  artifice.  It  may  be 
better  to  forfeit  life  itself,  than  honor  and  self-respect.  It 
may  be  better  to  take  the  life  of  the  aggressor,  already 
forfeited,  than  to  do  either. 

Treatment  of  the  Insane .  —  The  question  may  arise, 
whether  the  law  of  veracity  is  strictly  to  be  observed  in 
our  treatment  of  that  unfortunate  class  in  whom  reason 
no  longer  holds  her  seat.  The  practice,  if  I  mistake  not, 
very  generally  prevails,  of  resorting  to  deception  and 
direct  falsehood  in  such  cases,  in  order  to  effect  an  object 
not  otherwise  readily  attained.  Such  a  course  can  be 
justified  only  on  the  ground  that  the  insane  person  is,  by 
reason  of  his  condition,  an  irrational  and  irresponsible 
being,  and,  as  such,  an  exception  to  all  ordinary  rules ; 
and  that  a  regard  to  his  own  highest  good  requires  him 
to  be  so  treated.  In  such  a  case,  the  law  of  benevolence 
may  possibly  set  aside  the  law  of  veracity.  How  far  such 
a  course  is  actually  wise  and  expedient,  —  how  far  it  is 
likely  to  be  successful  in  accomplishing  the  objects  in  view, 
—  whether  honesty  and  veracity  are  not,  even  in  such 
cases,  in  the  long  run,  the  best  policy,  —  is,  to  say  the 
least,  an  open  question. 

Importance  of  Truth  in  Trifles. —  It  is  of  the  highest 
importance  to  form  a  habit  of  speaking  the  truth,  even  in 
matters  of  little  moment.  Such  a  habit,  securely  and 
firmly  fixed,  is  one  of  the  surest  bulwarks  against  the 
encroachments  of  vice.  It  is  essential  to  a  truly  noble 
and  virtuous  character.  Untruthfulness  in  little  things, 
leads  to  deception  in  more  important  matters,  and  on  a 
larger  scale.  “  White  lies,”  it  has  been  well  said,  “  always 
introduce  others  of  a  darker  complexion.  I  have  seldom 


184  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 

known  any  one  who  deserted  truth  in  trifles,  that  could 
be  trusted  in  matters  of  importance.”  “There  is  no  vice,” 
says  Dr.  Wayland,  “which,  more  easily  than  this,  stupefies 
a  man’s  conscience.  He  who  tells  lies  frequently,  will 
soon  become  an  habitual  liar ;  and  an  habitual  liar  will 
soon  lose  the  power  of  distinguishing  between  the  con¬ 
ceptions  of  his  imagination,  and  the  recollections  of  his 
memory.  I  have  known  a  few  persons  who  seemed  to 
have  arrived  at  this  most  deplorable  moral  condition. 
Let  every  one,  therefore,  beware  of  even  the  most  distant 
approaches^  to  this  detestable  vice.” 

$  II.  Veracity  as  Regards  Promises. 

Whence  the  Obligation.  —  The  obligation  to  keep  a 
promise,  according  to  some  writers,  arises  from  the  neces¬ 
sity  of  such  a  course  to  the  well-being  and  even  exist¬ 
ence  of  society.  Men  act  from  expectations  founded 
upon  the  assurances  of  others ;  and  if  no  confidence  could 
be  reposed  in  such  assurances,  the  varied  intercourse  of 
life  could  not  go  on,  and  society  would  be  at  an  end. 

This  is  doubtless  true,  and  it  furnishes  a  strong  and  in 
itself  imperative  reason  for  the  fulfillment  of  promises. 
In  the  absence  of  any  other  and  higher  principle,  this 
would  of  itself  constitute  an  obligation  to  such  a  course. 

But  it  is  by  no  means  true,  that  there  is  no  higher  prin¬ 
ciple  applicable  to  the  case.  The  law  of  expediency,  how¬ 
ever  weighty,  is  not  the  only  law,  nor  is  it  the  ground  of- 
obligation  in  the  present  case.  It  is  not  a  sufficient 
account  of  the  matter.  Aside  from  all  considerations  of 
this  nature,  from  all  results  of  evil  to  the  community  and 
to  the  individual,  have  I  a  moral  right  to  awaken  expecta¬ 
tions  which  I  do  not  intend  to  meet,  and  thus  to  disap¬ 
point  and  deceive  my  fellow-men  ?  Is  it  not  a  species  of 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY.  185 


fraud,  of  dishonesty,  which  is  in  itself  a  crime,  aside  from 
its  ruinous  consequences  to  society  ?  Does  not  the  law  of 
veracity,  which  makes  it  binding  on  me  to  speak  the  truth 
in  my  ordinary  conversation,  oblige  me  also  to  keep  my 
promises  ? 

In  iv hat  sense  to  be  interpreted .  —  How  is  a  promise  to 
be  interpreted  ?  Shall  it  be  as  the  promiser  himself  under¬ 
stands  it?  But  he  may  intend  to  deceive.  He  may  so 
frame  his  explanations  as  intentionally  to  convey  a  false 
idea  to  the  party  receiving  the  promise,  —  saying  one  thing 
and  meaning  another.  Is  he,  in  that  case,  bound  only  by 
his  own  meaning  and  intention  ?  A  man  promises  to  pay 
me  a  certain  sum  of  money  for  certain  services,  really  in¬ 
tending  to  make  payment  in  some  worthless  or  depreciated 
currency.  Is  he  bound,  in  that  case,  only  to  fulfill  his  orig¬ 
inal  intention  ?  This,  of  course,  cannot  be  conceded. 

Shall  we  say,  then,  that  the  promise  is  to  be  inter¬ 
preted  as  the  party  to  whom  the  promise  is  made  under¬ 
stands  it  ?  But  here  again  there  is  a  difficulty ;  for  the 
receiver  may,  on  his  part,  misunderstand  the  promise,  and 
the  real  meaning  of  the  promiser.  In  the  case  supposed, 
I  may  understand  the  promise  of  my  employer  to  be  that 
I  shall  be  paid  in  gold,  while  he  really  means  and  promises 
nothing  of  the  sort.  It  would  be  manifestly  unfair  to  hold 
the  promiser  bound  to  fulfill  his  promise,  not  according  to 
its  real  meaning,  but  according  to  any  construction  that 
the  whim  or  fancy  of  the  other  party  chose  to  put  upon  it. 

Obviously  the  only  just  rule  is  to  take  the  words  in 
their  natural  and  proper  signification,  as  meaning  just 
what  they  would  naturally  be  understood  to  mean  by 
any  one  not  specially  concerned  in  the  matter ;  in  other 
words,  as  he  who  made  the  promise  supposed  that  it 
would,  and  intended  that  it  should,  be  understood.  The 
promiser  is  bound  to  abide  by  this  interpretation,  and  to 

16* 


186  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


meet  the  expectations  which  he  has  thus  formed,  and 
which  he  intended  to  form.  If  he  fails  to  do  this,  he  is 
guilty  of  dishonesty. 

In  illustration  of  this  principle,  Paley  refers  to  the  his¬ 
torical  incident  of  the  treachery  practised  upon  the  garri¬ 
son  of  Sebastia,  who  were  promised  that,  if  they  would 
surrender,  no  blood  should  be  shed /  but  who  were,  on  sur¬ 
rendering,  buried  alive;  —  the  promise  being  kept  as  to  its 
letter,  but  broken  in  reality. 

In  what  casts  not  binding .  —  As  a  general  rule,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  of  the  obligation  to  fulfill  a  promise  once 
made.  And  yet  there  are  exceptions  to  that  rule.  Not 
every  promise  is  binding.  What,  then,  are  these  excep¬ 
tions  ? 

Suppose,  for  example,  I  have  promised  to  do  what  is 
in  itself  unlawful,  —  to  commit  a  crime,  to  lie,  to  steal,  to 
commit  murder,  in  any  way  to  violate  the  laws  of  society 
or  the  laws  of  God,  —  am  I  under  obligation  to  keep  such 
a  promise?  Unquestionably  not.  There  can  be  no  obli¬ 
gation  on  any  man  to  do  wrong.  It  is  a  contradiction  of 
terms  to  say  that  a  man  ought  to  do  what  he  ought  not  to 
do.  In  case  the  unlawfulness  of  the  act  contemplated  was 
known  at  the  time  the  promise  was  made,  then  the  prom¬ 
ise  itself  was  a  guilty  one,  and  the  sooner  it  is  broken  the 
better.  The  guilt  of  such  promises,  it  has  been  well  said, 
lies  not  in  the  breaking,  but  in  the  making.  In  case  the 
unlawfulness  was  not  known,  but  the  thing  promised  was, 
at  the  time,  supposed  to  be  lawful,  this  supposed  lawful¬ 
ness  was  manifestly  an  implied  condition  of  the  promise; 
and  a  failure  of  the  condition,  implies  a  failure  of  the  obli¬ 
gation.  The  promise  is  to  be  taken  in  its  plain  and 
obvious  intent;  and  if  there  was  no  intention  to  do  a 
wrong  act,  no  promise  to  do  a  known  wrong,  of  course 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY.  187 


there  is  no  obligation  in  the  premises.  This  was  the  case 
with  Herod,  whose  promise  was  to  give  his  daughter  what¬ 
ever  she  might  ask ;  but  who,  in  making  that  promise,  had 
no  thought  of  her  asking  what  she  did.  In  taking  the 
life  of  John  the  Baptist,  under  such  circumstances,  that 
ruler  committed  the  crime  of  murder  in  order  to  avoid 
breaking  a  promise  which,  in  reality,  he  never  made ;  and 
which,  if  made,  he  had  not  only  no  obligation  but  no  right 
to  keep. 

In  like  manner,  a  promise  obtained  by  any  misrepresen¬ 
tation  or  fraud  on  the  part  of  the  person  receiving  the 
promise,  is  not  binding,  when  such  fraud  or  misrepresenta¬ 
tion  is  discovered,  inasmuch  as  the  condition  on  which  the 
promise  was  made  proves  false.  If  a  beggai.  for  instance, 
obtains  my  signature  for  a  sum  of  money  to  relieve  his 
apparent  distress,  and  I  afterwards  discover  that  he  is  an 
impostor,  and  his  distress  counterfeit,  my  promise,  which 
was  made  on  the  strength  of  that  representation,  is  no 
longer  morally  binding. 

Impossibilities.  —  Nor  can  a  promise  bind  any  man  to 
perform  what  proves  to  be  an  impossibility.  “We  cannot 
be  under  obligation,”  says  Dr.  Wayland,  “to  do  what  is 
plainly  out  of  our  power.”  If,  however,  at  the  time  the 
promise  was  made,  we  ourselves  knew  that  it  was  an  im- 
joossibility  to  perform  the  same,  we  are  really  guilty  of 
fraud ;  since  a  promise  is  an  implied  belief  that  the  thing 
promised  is  possible.  Here,  again,  it  is  not  the  breaking, 
but  the  making  of  the  promise  that  is  criminal.  No  one  has 
a  right  to  promise  what  he  does  not  believe  can  be  done, 
much  less  what  he  knows  cannot  be.  Thus,  for  example, 
the  proprietor  of  a  stage,  steamboat,  or  other  vehicle,  has 
no  right  to  promise  to  convey  me  to  a  certain  place  within 
a  specified  time,  if  he  knows,  or  has  any  reason  to  believe, 
that,  owing  to  the  state  of  the  roads,  or  state  of  the 


188  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


weather,  it  will  be  impossible  to  reach  the  given  point 
until  after  the  time  specified.  The  builder  or  contractor 
has  no  right  to  promise  that  the  house  which  he  is  erect¬ 
ing  shall  be  ready  for  occupancy  at  a  given  time,  when  in 
all  probability  it  cannot  be  completed,  as  he  very  well 
knows,  until  some  weeks,  or  even  months,  after  that  date. 
All  such  promises  are  dishonest. 

I  am  well  aware  that  nothing  is  more  common  than 
promises  of  just  this  nature;  insomuch  that  it  has  come  to 
be  almost  proverbial  that  no  dependence  is  to  be  placed,  in 
regard  to  such  matters,  upon  the  word  of  those  who  per¬ 
haps  would  scorn  to  be  guilty  of  falsehood  in  other  things. 
It  is  none  the  less  a  falsehood  and  a  fraud,  however,  because 
of  frequent  occurrence.  Nor  is  it  any  justification  of  such 
a  course,  to  say  that  the  thing  promised  was  in  its  nature 
impossible  of  fulfillment.  This  we  should  have  thought  of 
before  we  promised.  We  had  no  right  to  promise  an  un¬ 
certainty,  much  less  an  impossibility. 

Extorted  Promises . — A  promise  may  be  extorted  by 
violence  —  by  an  appeal  to  fear.  Placed  in  imminent  peril, 
I  promise  the  highwayman  or  the  assassin  that,  if  he  will 
spare  my  life,  I  will  not  betray  him,  or  give  information 
that  shall  lead  to  his  arrest.  Am  I  bound  to  keep  that 
promise  ?  This  is  a  point  upon  which  moralists  have 
greatly  differed,  and  which  it  is  not  easy  to  decide.  On 
the  one  hand,  it  may  be  said,  that  were  such  promises  in  a 
few  instances  broken,  confidence  would  no  longer  be  re¬ 
posed  in  them,  and  whoever  should  fall  into  the  hands  of 
the  highwayman  would  be  murdered  as  well  as  robbed.  On 
the  other  hand,  justice  and  the  safety  of  the  public  demand 
the  arrest  of  the  criminal.  My  silence  may  cost  many 
lives.  I  have  no  right  to  purchase  my  own  safety  at  the 
expense  of  the  lives  and  safety  of  others.  And  then,  aside 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY.  189 


from  this,  —  the  advantage  or  disadvantage  to  the  com¬ 
munity,  —  am  I  under  obligation  to  keep  a  promise  forced 
from  me  under  such  circumstances  ?  As  the  obligation  of 
one  party  always  implies  a  corresponding  right  of  the  other, 
I  am  surely  not  bound  to  give  what  he  who  extorts  the 
promise  has  no  right  to  demand.  Nor  has  he  the  right  to 
demand  the  fulfillment  of  a  promise  which  he  had  in  the  first 
place  no  right  to  procure.  But,  had  he  any  right,  under 
the  circumstances,  to  make  me  promise  what  I  did  ?  Had 
he  a  right  to  my  life,  a  right  to  put  me  in  peril  and  in  fear, 
a  right  to  the  violence  and  threats  by  which  he  extorted 
the  promise  in  the  first  instance  ?  If  not,  then  what  be¬ 
comes  of  his  right  to  demand  the  fulfillment  of  a  promise 
thus  extorted ;  and  if  he  has  no  right  to  demand  it,  then, 
as  far  as  he  is  concerned  at  least,  I  am  under  no  obligation 
to  keep  it. 

Were  the  circumstances  otherwise — had  I,  by  my  own 
carelessness,  or  curiosity,  or  folly,  placed  myself  in  the 
power  of  such  a  person,  and  then  purchased  my  life  by 
promise  of  secrecy,  the  case  had  been  different,  and  the 
argument,  as  above  given,  would  no  longer  hold. 

Contracts.  —  A  contract  is  a  mutual  promise  between 
two  parties,  —  one  engaging  to  do  one  thing,  provided 
the  other  will  do  another  thing.  It  comes,  therefore, 
under  the  same  general  rule  with  promises.  I  am  bound 
to  fulfill  a  contract,  for  the  same  reasons  that  I  am  bound 
to  keep  any  other  promise  that  I  have  made. 

The  same  rule  which  applies  to  the  interpretation  of 
promises,  applies  also  to  contracts.  They  are  to  be  taken 
according  to  their  plain  and  obvious  signification,  as  mean¬ 
ing  that  which  they  would  naturally  be  understood  to 
mean  by  any  intelligent  and  unprejudiced  person.  The 
rule  given  by  Paley  is  to  the  same  effect:  “Whatever  is 


190  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


expected  by  one  side,  and  known  to  be  so  expected  by 
the  other,  is  to  be  deemed  a  part  or  condition  of  the  con¬ 
tract.” 

The  failure  of  the  party,  with  whom  we  contract,  to  ful¬ 
fill  his  part  of  the  obligation,  releases  us  from  ours,  since 
it  is  the  failure  of  the  condition  on  which  the  contract  was 
made,  and  on  which  it  entirely  depends. 

A  society,  or  company  of  men,  it  hardly  need  be  said, 
is  under  the  same  obligation  to  fulfill  its  contracts,  as  an 
individual ;  the  state,  as  the  citizen.  Nations  and  states, 
in  their  dealings  with  each  other,  are  under  the  same  laws 
and  obligations  of  veracity  and  honesty  in  regard  to  all 
their  treaties  and  compacts,  as  those  which  bind  the  con¬ 
science  of  the  private  citizen. 

§  III.  —  Veracity  in  Respect  to  Oaths. 

I.  Significance  of  the  Oath.  —  It  is  often  of  the  highest 
importance  to  secure  the  most  exact  truthfulness  of  state¬ 
ment —  to  make  sure  that  what  is  asserted  is  not  false.  To 
secure  this  most  effectually  is  the  object  of  an  oath.  This 
is  calling  on  the  Supreme  Being,  the  omniscient  and  om¬ 
nipotent  ruler  of  the  universe,  to  witness  that  what  we 
say  is  true,  and  to  deal  with  us  in  strict  justice  if  it  be  not 
true.  We  thus  place  ourselves  under  the  highest  conceiv¬ 
able  obligations  and  motives  to  truthfulness  ;  since,  to  make 
this  solemn  appeal  to  the  majesty  of  Heaven,  and  then 
directly,  and  in  the  face  of  it,  to  utter  that  which  is  false,  in 
the  very  ear  of  Him  whom  we  have  called  to  witness  our 
truthfulness,  would  be  an  act  of  impiety  the  most  daring  and 
reckless  of  which  we  can  well  conceive.  He  who  has  any 
just,  or  even  remote  idea  of  the  value  of  the  divine  favor, 
and  the  danger  of  incurring  the  displeasure  of  Him  who 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY.  191 

holds  our  very  breath  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  will  not; 
for  the  sake  of  any  present  advantage,  venture  to  offer  so 
deliberate  an  insult  to  the  Supreme  Being.  By  imprecat¬ 
ing  upon  ourselves  the  divine  displeasure  and  curse  if  we 
speak  falsely,  we  place  ourselves  under  the  highest  possible 
motives  to  truthfulness.  And  this  is  the  theory  and  sig¬ 
nificance  of  the  oath. 

Form  of  Expression.  —  The  usual  form  of  expression 
in  the  English  oath  is,  “So  help  me  God? — in  which  the 
emphatic  word  is  the  particle  so;  that  is,  may  God  be 
my  helper  and  friend,  in  all  things  wherein  I  need  his  help, 
now  and  hereafter,  in  life  and  in  death,  in  time  and  eter¬ 
nity,  only  so  far  as,  and  on  condition  that,  I  now  speak  the 
truth.  To  add  still  further  solemnity  to  the  act,  the  juror 
places  his  hand  on  the  word  of  God,  or  lifts  it  to  heaven  in 
sign  of  solemn  invocation  and  appeal.  This  latter  was  the 
ancient  Jewish  custom,  whence  ours  is  probably  derived. 
With  the  Greeks  and  Romans  it  was  customary  to  slay  a 
victim,  o?i  solemn  occasions,  when  it  was  desired  to  give  spe¬ 
cial  importance  to  the  transaction.  Hence,  from  the  strik¬ 
ing  down  of  the  beast,  the  expression  ferire pactum,  whence 
our  own  phrase,  to  strike  a  bargain . 

II.  Different  Applications  of  the  Oatli .  —  There  are  two 
different  kinds,  or,  more  properly,  different  applications  of 
the  oath.  I  may  take  oath  that  I  will  testify  truly,  or  that 
I  will  perform  some  engagement.  The  oath  of  testimony 
places  me  under  the  most  solemn  obligation  to  state  that 
which  I  know  respecting  a  given  matter,  without  addition, 
or  suppression,  without  exaggerating,  or  mitigating,  or 
falsely  coloring  aught.  The  oath  of  engagement  binds  me 
to  the  faithful  performance  of  any  duty  which  may  be 
assigned  me,  or  the  fulfillment  of  any  office  of  trust  com¬ 
mitted  to  me,  or  of  any  engagement  which  I  voluntarily 


192  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


assume.  More  frequently,  oaths  of  this  class  are  either 
oaths  of  office  or  of  trust.  As  regards  the  latter,  it  seems 
an  obvious  propriety  that,  where  interests  of  great  moment 
are  intrusted  to  the  keeping  of  successive  guardians,  in,  it 
„  may  be,  successive  generations  of  men,  every  precaution 
should  be  taken  to  secure  the  fidelity  of  those  thus  trusted. 
This  is  the  case  with  corporate  bodies,  to  whom  is  com¬ 
mitted  the  business  of  executing  an  instrument,  or  appro¬ 
priating  a  charity  according  to  the  designs  of  the  testator 
or  founder.  Our  institutions  of  learning,  and  other  be¬ 
nevolent  and  charitable  institutions,  which  depend,  for  the 
most  part,  on  funds  given  for  the  purpose,  are  managed  by 
boards  of  trust,  the  members  of  which,  when  they  enter 
upon  their  duties,  take  oath  to  administer  the  trust  ac¬ 
cording  to  the  intention  of  the  instrument,  and  the  will 
of  the  donor. 

Oath  of  Office.  —  The  common  oath  of  office  is,  per¬ 
haps,  of  more  questionable  propriety.  When  the  duties 
of  the  office  assumed  are  of  such  a  nature  as  to  require 
the  added  security  and  solemnity  of  an  oath ;  when  the 
office  is  one  of  great  importance,  or  of  unusual  difficulty; 
and  when  much  depends  on  the  fidelity  and  skill  with 
which  its  duties  are  performed,  —  there  can  be  no  doubt  as 
to  the  propriety  and  utility  of  the  oath.  Such  is  the  case 
when  men  are  called  to  the  high  and  important  offices  of 
the  state  —  to  the  administration  of  public  affairs.  What¬ 
ever  can  add  to  the  sense  of  moral  obligation,  and  quicken 
the  conscience,  should  be  brought  to  bear  in  such  a  case. 

The  oath  should  be  imposed,  however,  only  on  occasions 
of  importance.  Its  too  frequent  imposition  tends  rather 
to  weaken  than  to  strengthen  the  sense  of  obligation,  and 
the  restraints  of  virtue.  In  proportion  as  it  becomes  a 
familiar  and  common  thing,  its  sacredness  is  impaired,  its 
efficacy  destroyed.  It  comes  to  be  regarded  as  a  mere 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY.  193 


form,  and  takes  no  hold  upon  the  conscience.  Such  a  use 
of  it  must  tend  greatly  to  obliterate  all  moral  distinctions, 
all  nice  perceptions  of  duty  and  sense  of  obligation,  from 
the  mind. 

This  effect  is  very  greatly  increased  by  the  senseless 
and  unmeaning  manner  in  which  the  oath  is,  in  such  cases, 
very  generally  administered  by  the  official  whose  duty  it 
is  to  induct  into  office  the  new  incumbent.  The  words 
are  hurried  over  with  extreme  rapidity,  and  in  the  most 
careless  manner,  as  if  they  were  the  merest  form,  or  as  if 
whatever  meaning  they  had  were  something  to  be  ashamed 
of,  rather  than  to  be  carefully  pondered.  It  were  much 
better  that  all  such  oaths  should  never  be  administered. 
They  are  j3roductive  of  more  evil  than  good. 

Even  aside  from  this  irreverent  and  senseless  manner 
which  too  frequently  accompanies  the  administration  of 
the  oath  of  office,  why,  it  may  be  asked,  is  it  necessary  to 
make  use  of  the  solemn  sanctions  of  religion  to  secure 
fidelity  in  the  discharge  of  every  petty  office  and  employ¬ 
ment  to  which  men  may  be  called  in  the  details  of  public 
duty?  “Why  should  one  man,”  it  has  been  well  said, 
“  who  is  called  upon  to  discharge  the  duties  of  a  constable, 
or  of  an  overseer  of  common  schools,  or  even  of  a  coun¬ 
sellor  or  a  judge,  be  placed  under  the  pains  and  penalties 
of  perjury,  or  under  peril  of  his  eternal  salvation,  any  more 
than  his  neighbor,  who  discharges  the  duties  of  a  mer¬ 
chant,  of  an  instructor  of  youth,  a  physician,  or  a  clergy¬ 
man?”  On  this  point,  the  remarks  of  Dr.  Paley,  with 
reference  to  the  frequency  of  oaths,  are  worthy  of  consid¬ 
eration,  as  equally  applicable  to  our  own  country.  “  This 
obscure  and  elliptical  form,  together  with  the  levity  and 
frequency  with  which  it  is  administered,  has  brought  about 
a  general  inadvertency  to  the  obligation  of  oaths,  which, 
both  in  a  religious  and  political  view,  is  much  to  be 

17 


194  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


lamented ;  and  it  merits  public  consideration,  whether 
the  requiring  of  oaths  on  so  many  frivolous  occasions, 
especially  in  the  customs,  and  in  the  qualification  for  petty 
offices,  has  any  other  effect  than  to  make  them  cheap  in  the 
minds  of  the  people.  A  pound  of  tea  cannot  travel  reg¬ 
ularly  from  the  ship  to  the  consumer,  without  costing  half 
a  dozen  oaths  at  the  least ;  and  the  same  security  for  the 
due  discharge  of  their  office  —  namely,  that  of  an  oath  — 
is  required  from  a  church-warden  and  an  archbishop,  from 
a  petty  constable  and  the  Chief  Justice  of  England.” 

III.  laicfidness  of  Oaths.  —  There  are  certain  religious 
sects,  as  the  Moravians,  and  the  Quakers,  which  regard  the 
oath  as  unlawful  on  any  occasion,  and,  on  the  ground  of 
these  scruples,  refuse  to  swear.  In  support  of  this  view 
they  cite  the  words  of  our  Saviour,  in  Matthew  v.  34,  37  : 
“  I  say  unto  you,  swear  not  at  all,”  “  Let  your  communica¬ 
tion  be  yea,  yea,  and  nay,  nay ;  for  whatsoever  is  more 
than  these  cometh  of  evil.”  That  our  Saviour  intended  by 
these  words  to  prohibit  the  solemn  judicial  oath,  there  is 
not  the  least  evidence.  On  the  contrary,  his  words  evi¬ 
dently  refer  to  the  use  of  oaths  in  common  conversation  ; 
that  is,  to  profane  swearing,  and  to  all  irreverent  and  un¬ 
authorized  appeals  to  Heaven  in  confirmation  of  our  ve¬ 
racity,  without  judicial  form  and  sanction.  The  Jews  seem 
to  have  distinguished  between,  swearing  by  the  name  of 
God,  and  swearing  by  other  and  less  sacred  objects,  as  the 
heaven,  the  earth,  Jerusalem,  the  head,  etc., — regarding  the 
latter  forms  as  less  sacred  and  binding  than  the  former  one. 
Christ  forbids  all  such  use  of  language,  as  irreverent  to  the 
Supreme  Being,  and  his  direction  therefore  is,  swear  not  at 
all;  that  is,  not  in  any  of  these  ways  :  they  are  all  improper 
and  profane.  That,  in  so  saying,  he  intended  to  forbid  the 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY.  195 


judicial  oath,  there  is  no  evidence,  but  the  highest  improb* 
ability. 

Sanctioned  in  Scripture . —  No  attentive  reader  of  the 
Scriptures  can  fail  to  observe  the  fact,  that  the  solemn  oath 
is  repeatedly  recognized  and  sanctioned  in  the  sacred 
writings.  Our  Saviour  himself  was  once  put  on  oath  by 
the  high-priest,  and  made  reply,  when  “  adjured  by  the 
living  God,”  to  declare  whether  he  was  the  Christ,  the  Son 
of  God.  God  repeatedly  swears  by  himself,  in  the  Old 
Testament  Scriptures.  In  order  to  show  the  immuta¬ 
bility  of  his  counsel,  he  confirmed  his  own  covenant  with 
the  Jews  by  an  oath.  “For  when  God  made  promise  to 
Abraham,  because  he  could  swear  by  no  greater,  he  sware 
by  himself.”  “For  men  verily  swear  by  the  greater; 
and  an  oath  for  confirmation  is  to  them  the  end  of  all 
strife.  Wherein  God  willing  more  abundantly  to  show 
unto  the  heirs  of  promise  the  immutability  of  his  coun¬ 
sel,  confirmed  it  by  an  oath”  (Heb.  vi.  13,  16,  17).  “I 
have  sworn  by  myself,  the  word  is  gone  out  of  my 
mouth  in  righteousness,  and  shall  not  return”  (Is.  xlv. 
23).  “  The  Lord  God  hath  sworn  by  himself,  saith  the 

Lord  the  God  of  hosts”  (Amos  vi.  8).  “For  I  have  sworn 
by  myself,  saith  the  Lord,  that  Bozrah  shall  become  a 
desolation”  (Jer.  xlix.  13). 

Among  the  precepts  of  the  law  given  on  Sinai  we  find 
the  following:  “Thou  slialt  fear  the  Lord  thy  God,  and 
serve  him,  and  shalt  swear  by  his  name”  (Dent.  vi.  13).  The 
same  is  repeated  in  Dent.  x.  20.  The  judicial  oath  is  prob¬ 
ably  referred  to  in  these  passages.  Still  more  explicitly  in 
the  following  :  “  Then  shall  an  oath  of  the  Lord  be  between 
them  both,  that  he  hath  not  put  his  hand  unto  his  neigh¬ 
bor’s  goods”  (Ex.  xxii.  11).  Paul,  in  his  epistles,  repeatedly 
calls  God  to  witness,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  for  the 


196  DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY. 


truth  of  what  he  says.  “For  God  is  my  witness”  (Rom. 
i.  9).  “Moreover,  I  call  God  for  a  witness  upon  my  soul” 
(2  Cor.  i.  23).  From  the  above  examples  it  is  evident 
that  oaths,  solemn  and  judicial,  are  by  no  means  con¬ 
demned  in  the  Scriptures,  but,  on  the  contrary,  sanctioned 
both  by  precept  and  example. 

Necessity  of  the  Oath.  —  That  the  frequent  and  irrever¬ 
ent  use  of  the  oath,  on  trifling  occasions,  tends  to  evil,  has 
already  been  admitted ;  that  its  use  can  be,  or  need  be, 
entirely  dispensed  with  in  judicial  transactions,  and  on 
public  occasions  of  solemn  moment,  I  am  not  ready  to 
admit.  The  state  needs  to  employ  it ;  nor  can  the  ends  of 
justice  be  well  secured  without  it.  Reputation,  property, 
life  itself,  and  all  the  interests  that  are  dear  to  man  on  the 
earth,  depend  on  the  sanctity  of  the  oath.  So  long  as  hu¬ 
man  nature  is  what  it  is,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  throw 
around  the  forms  of  justice,  and  the  offices  of  high  public 
trust,  the  solemnity  and  sanction  of  a  direct  appeal  to  the 
omniscient  and  omnipotent  Ruler  of  men  and  things. 

Where  Religious  Relief  is  wanting.  —  The  state  may 
have  occasion  for  the  testimony  or  public  services  of  those 
who  have  either  no  religious  belief,  or  a  widely  different 
one  from  the  commonly  received  faith  ;  as,  for  example,  of 
one  who  believes  in  Mohammed,  or  in  the  deities  of  the 
pagan  world ;  of  one  who,  as  the  Jew,  believes  in  God,  but 
not  in  Christ;  or  of  one  who  rejects  the  doctrine  of  a 
future  state,  or  of  future  retribution.  In  such  cases,  of 
what  avail  is  the  oath,  in  its  usual  form  and  significance?  I 
reply:  if  the  faith  of  the  testator  in  God,  and  in  the  retri¬ 
butions  of  the  future,  be  not  wholly  wanting,  his  oath  may 
be  upon  and  according  to  his  faith,  whatever  that  may  be, 
—  whether  Jewish,  Pagan,  or  Mohammedan  ;  and,  as  his 


DUTIES  PERTAINING  TO  VERACITY.  197 


religion  is  more  or  less  practical,  and  pure,  and  exerts  more 
or  less  restraint  and  influence  on  liis  life,  so  his  oath  will 
be  more  or  less  binding  on  his  conscience,  and  his  testi¬ 
mony  will  be  more  or  less  worthy  of  credence,  in  that  pro¬ 
portion.  If,  however,  either  the  existence  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  or  a  state  of  future  rewards  and  punishments,  be 
not  an  object  of  earnest  belief  to  the  testator,  it  is  difficult 
to  see  of  what  validity  the  oath  can  any  longer  be.  It  has 
lost  its  significance,  so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  and  his  testh 
mony,  if  taken,  must  be  taken  with  allowance,  and  for 
what  it  is  worth. 


17* 


PART  III. 

% 

DUTIES  TO  THE  FAMILY. 


We  Lave  as  yet  considered  only  those  duties  which 
man  owes  to  himself,  to  society,  and  to  his  fellow-men 
in  general.  There  are  other  duties,  not  less  important,  of  a 
more  specific  character.  There  are  in  the  world  two  great 
institutions,  —  both  of  divine  origin,  both  founded  in 
man’s  moral  and  social  nature,  both  placing  him  in  new 
and  peculiar  relations,  and  requiring  of  him  new  and  pecu¬ 
liar  duties,  —  I  mean  the  Family  and  the  State .  Of  the 
former  I  am  now  to  treat. 

The  duties  which  belong  to  this  class  divide  themselves 
naturally  into  those  of  the  marriage  relation,  and  those  of 
the  parental  relation ;  or,  the  duties  of  husband  and  wife, 
and  those  of  parent  and  child. 


CHAPTER  I. 

DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION. 

The  family  is  a  distinct  and  peculiar  institution,  standing 
by  itself ;  a  distinct  organic  community,  complete  within 
itself ;  —  having  its  own  laws,  its  own  rights  and  privileges, 


DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION.  199 


its  own  interests,  its  own  duties.  The  family  is,  in  an  im¬ 
portant  sense,  the  foundation  of  the  state,  which  is  a  com¬ 
munity  or  society  of  families,  gathered  into  one  organiza¬ 
tion,  rather  than  a  casual  combination  of  individuals  other¬ 
wise  isolated.  At  the  basis  of  this  arrangement  stands 
the  marriage  relation,  itself  an  institution  of  divine  origin, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  its  foundation  is  in  the  constitu¬ 
tion  of  our  nature.  It  is  the  origin  of  all  the  domestic 
relations,  and  of  all  civil  society.  The  continuance  and 
progress  of  the  race  from  age  to  age  depends  upon  it. 

Nature  of  this  Relation .  —  Marriage  is  the  union  for  life 
of  one  of  either  sex  with  one  of  the  other.  It  is  a  mutual 
compact,  and  a  voluntary  one,  having  for  its  basis,  not  mere 
personal  respect  and  regard,  not  merely  the  convenience 
and  interest  of  the  parties,  but  mutual  affection.  Where 
this  is  wanting,  with  whatever  forms  the  rite  may  be  cele¬ 
brated,  and  whatever  advantages  or  disadvantages  it  may 
ensure,  it  is  after  all  but  a  form,  a  solemn  mockery. 

The  ground  of  this  relation  exists  in  the  very  consti¬ 
tution  of  our  nature.  Those  natural  desires  and  propen¬ 
sities  which  relate  to  the  intercourse  of  the  sexes,  look 
forward  to  this  relation  as  their  end,  and  are  at  once  regu¬ 
lated,  refined,  and  chastened  by  it.  Without  such  an 
influence,  and  such  an  end,  these  desires  would  constantly 
tend  to  the  degradation  of  man,  and  the  disorganization 
of  society.  Under  the  influence  of  the  marriage  relation, 
these  disturbing  forces  are  curbed  and  tranquillized,  secu¬ 
rity  and  confidence  are  imparted,  society  is  established  on 
a-  firm  basis.  The  parties  united  in  this  sacred  relation  — 
joined,  not  in  person  merely,  but  in  heart  —  become  one  in 
all  the  interests  and  duties,  the  joys  and  the  sorrows  of  life. 

But,  while  founded  in  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  the 
relation  of  which  I  speak  is  not  the  less  a  divine  institu- 


200  DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION. 


tion.  That  nature  is  itself  the  work  of  the  divine  Creator, 
having  reference  to  this  end,  and  terminating  in  it.  He  who 
designed  the  constitution  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  hu¬ 
man  body,  and  planned  all  the  circumstances  of  his  earthly 
condition,  designed  also  that  man  should  not  live  alone 
upon  the  earth.  Hence  the  social  nature  and  wants  ;  and 
hence  marriage,  which  is  the  result  of  that  nature,  may  be 
regarded  as  an  institution  of  divine  origin. 

But  while  nature  lays  the  foundation  for  such  an  insti¬ 
tution,  and  that  in  accordance  with  the  design  of  the 
Creator,  it  is  still  a  matter  to  be  regulated  and  ratified  by 
public  authority.  The  parties  are  not  alone  concerned. 
The  public  welfare  demands  that  a  relation  of  this  kind 
should  not  be  formed  clandestinely,  or  without  official 
authority  and  due  forms  of  .ratification.  The  law  takes 
cognizance  of  this  relation,  prescribes  the  due  forms  and 
conditions,  and  concerns  itself  with  the  due  observance  of - 
the  same.  This  it  is  the  proper  business  of  the  state  to  do, 
through  its  appointed  legal  authorities,  in  order  to  the 
permanence  and  security  of  the  rights  and  interests 
involved  in  the  new  relation  of  the  parties. 

The  relation  thus  formed  and  authorized  is  for  life. 
Only  one  crime  — that  of  infidelity  to  the  marriage  bond 
—  can  rightfully  be  made  the  ground  of  separation. 

Such,  in  brief,  is  the  nature  of  the  marriage  relation : 
a  compact  between  two  persons  of  different  sex,  freely  and 
voluntarily  formed,  by  the  mutual  consent  and  choice  of 
each,  on  the  ground  of  affection,  —  a  union  of  heart  and 
person  and  interests,  authorized  by  due  forms  of  law,  and 
to  continue  while  life  continues. 

Different  Views  of  Marriage .  —  The  conception  of  the 
nature  and  rights  of  the  marriage  relation,  and  of  the 
duties  which  it  imposes,  has  varied  in  different  ages  and 


DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION.  201 


among  different  nations.  With  some,  polygamy  and  con¬ 
cubinage  have  been  tolerated,  and  divorce  has  been  al¬ 
lowed  on  frivolous  grounds.  Still,  the  idea  of  complete 
and  perfect  marriage  has,  with  almost  all  nations,  been 
that  now  indicated,  —  the  exclusive  union  of  one  man  and 
one  woman  for  life. 

The  practice  of  polygamy  seems  to  have  been  more  or 
less  prevalent  in  the  early  periods  of  Jewish  history.  Still, 
in  the  beginning  it  was  not  so ;  but  the  marriage  institu¬ 
tion,  as  it  came  from  the  hand  of  God,  was  the  union  of  a 
single  pair,  and  they  two  were  one  flesh.  It  has  been  well 
remarked  by  Dr.  Ilickok,  that,  “  If  polygamy  was  practised 
by  the  patriarchs  with  God’s  permission,  it  still  had  no 
divine  sanction ;  God’s  legislation  has  been  always  against 
it,  even  when,  for  other  reasons,  he  has  not  enforced  it.” 

By  the  Roman  laws,  polygamy  was  not  allowed.  The 
Institutes  define  marriage  as  “  the  union  of  a  man  and  a 
woman,  so  as  to  constitute  an  inseparable,  habitual  course 
of  life;”  and  in  the  Digest  it  is  spoken  of  as  “partnership 
for  life  —  the  mutual  participation  of  divine  and  human 
rights.”  The  law  of  Justinian  expressly  forbids  having 
more  than  one  wife.  “It  is  not  lawful  to  have  two  wives 
at  the  same  time.”  Concubinage  was,  however,  allowed. 
So,  also,  in  the  Grecian  states.  The  heroes  of  Homer,  it 
has  been  remarked,  appear  never  to  have  had  more  than 
one  spouse,  —  d Ao^os,  —  while  sometimes  represented  as 
living  in  concubinage.  This  shows  that  even  in  that  early 
period  and  rude  stage  of  society,  the  true  idea  of  marriage 
was  still  entertained. 

English  law  regards  the  husband  and  wife  as  but  one 
person,  —  the  legal  existence  of  the  woman,  during  mar¬ 
riage,  being  incorporated  in  that  of  her  husband.  She  can 
bring  no  legal  claim  or  suit  in  her  own  name  alone  ;  nor 
can  the  husband,  by  legal  act  or  conveyance,  grant  any- 


202  DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION. 


thing  to  his  wife,  —  she  being  one  and  the  same  with  him¬ 
self  in  the  eye  of  the  law.  Even  in  criminal  prosecutions, 
husband  and  wife  cannot  be  evidence  for  or  against  each 
other,  on  the  ground  that,  according  to  established  maxims 
of  law,  “no  one  can  be  a  witness  in  his  own  cause,”  and 
“no  one  is  bound  to  accuse  himself.”  This  differs  from 
Roman  law,  in  which  husband  and  wife  are  two  distinct 
persons,  and  each  may  hold  property,  contract  debts,  etc. 

According  to  Roman  law,  Roman  citizens  could  only 
marry  Roman  citizens,  —  union  with  those  of  other  nations 
not  being  regarded  as  valid  marriage.  Restrictions  of  a 
similar  nature  exist,  or  have  existed  to  some  extent,  among 
other  people,  limiting  the  marriage  union  to  the  families 
of  the  same  nation  or  tribe.  It  is  for  the  laws  of  every 
state  to  prescribe  the  limits  within  which  marriage  may 
be  contracted;  and  in  most,  if  not  all,  civilized  nations, 
there  are  certain  restrictions  of  this  sort,  as  respects 
marriage  within  certain  degrees  of  kindred. 

As  marriage  is  not  merely  a  civil  but  also  a  religious 
institution,  the  state  is  not  alone  concerned  in  its  due 
observance  ;  hence,  in  the  ceremonies  attending  its  public 
authorization,  civil  and  religious  rites  are  usually  con¬ 
joined.  A  mere  legal  contract  does  not  express  its  true 
idea  and  full  import.  The  sanctions  of  religion  are  com¬ 
bined  with  the  sanctions  of  law,  in  its  true  and  proper 
solemnization.  The  sentiment  of  duty  is  addressed,  as 
well  as  the  sentiment  of  citizenship.  The  custom  of  per¬ 
forming  the  marriage  ceremony  in  churches,  however, 
does  not  seem  to  have  prevailed  prior  to  the  thirteenth 
century. 

Divorce.  —  Divorce,  or  the  separation  of  the  marriage 
union,  was  allowable  among  the  Jews,  under  certain  regu¬ 
lations,  wdienever  the  husband  for  any  reason  chose  to  put 
away  his  wife.  Such  was  not  the  original  and  true  design 


DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION.  203 


of  the  marriage  relation,  which  was  intended  to  be  per¬ 
manent,  holding  the  parties  in  union  for  life.  It  was  a 
perversion  of  that  design,  tolerated ,  but  never  sanctioned 
by  the  Divine  Law-giver. 

There  were  reasons  for  this  toleration.  The  cruelty  and 
hardness  of  men,  the  barbarism  of  the  age,  rendered 
divorce  a  less  evil  to  both,  when  affection  no  longer  held 
the  parties  in  mutual  regard,  than  would  be  an  inseparable 
union,  from  which  all  love  had  fled,  and  in  which  woman, 
as  the  weaker  and  more  likely  to  be  abused,  would  suffer 
the  greatest  inconveniences  and  injuries. 

English  law  does  not  recognize  the  right  of  divorce. 
A  special  act  of  Parliament  is  necessary  to  provide  for  each 
case  of  the  sort  as  it  comes  up. 

In  our  own  country,  the  facilities  and  occasions  for 
divorce  vary  in  the  different  states ;  but  in  all,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  the  tendency  is  to  a  separation  of  the  marriage  tie 
for  reasons  of  too  slight  a  nature.  In  proportion  as 
divorce  becomes  easy,  the  security  of  the  domestic  rela¬ 
tions  is  impaired,  and  woman  is  degraded  from  her  true 
position.  The  law  of  God  is  explicit  in  this  matter ;  and 
so  far  as  state  policy  departs  from  this  rule,  it  defeats  its 
own  end,  which  is,  the  highest  welfare  of  the  body  politic. 


Duties  of  the  Marriage  Relation.  —  Fidelity  is  the  first 
law  of  the  marriage  state,  —  the  faithful  observance  of  the 
solemn  contract.  This  is  broken  by  whatever  is  contrary 
to  the  law  of  chastity.  Not  merely  criminal  intercourse 
with  other  persons,  but  whatever  weakens  or  destroys  that 
exclusive  affection  on  which  the  contract  is  founded,  is 
really  a  violation  of  that  contract.  The  evils  resulting  from 
infidelity  to  the  marriage  vow  are  among  the  greatest  and 
most  serious  with  which  society  is  afflicted.  The  peace 
and  harmony  of  the  domestic  relations  are  destroyed. 


204  DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION. 


families  are  broken  up,  the  most  sacred  ties  are  severed, 
discord  and  misery  reign  where  all  should  be  happiness 
and  love.  Hence,  in  all  ages,  and  by  all  laws  of  God  and 
man,  it  has  been  treated  as  an  aggravated  and  serious 
offence.  By  the  Jewish  law  it  was  punishable  with  death. 

By  the  law  of  nature  and  of  the  Scriptures,  the  husband 
is  the  head  of  the  family ;  with  him  is  vested  the  chief 
authority :  hence  the  duty  of  respect ,  and,  so  far  as  there  is 
any  occasion  for  it  by  reason  of  the  conflict  of  opinion  or 
diversity  of  choice,  the  duty  also  of  obedience ,  on  the  part 
of  the  wife.  This  authority,  of  course,  gives  the  husband 
no  right  to  abuse  his  power  by  acts  of  unkindness  and 
severity,  or  any  harshness  of  demeanor;  nor,  on  the  other 
hand,  does  it  derogate  in  the  least  from  the  honor  and 
dignity  of  woman.  To  submit  and  obey,  is  not  more  the 
sphere  than  the  highest  grace  and  ornament  of  the  gentler 
sex ;  as  such,  it  is  explicitly  enjoined  in  the  sacred  writings. 
In  ruder  states  of  society,  and  in  earlier  ages  of  the  world, 
as  even  now  wherever  barbarism  exists,  woman  has  been 
but  the  slave  of  man.  His  brute  strength  has  prevailed 
over  her  weakness,  and  abused  her  gentleness  and  un¬ 
complaining,  patient  endurance  of  ills  and  wrongs.  The 
Roman  law  allowed  the  husband  to  treat  the  wife  with 
severity,  and  even  with  personal  violence.  But  where 
Christianity  comes,  it  elevates  woman  from  this  degraded 
position,  and  makes  her  the  equal  companion  of  the 
stronger  sex;  and,  while  it  still  enjoins  upon  her  the  duty 
of  obedience  and  subjection  to  the  husband,  it  clothes  that 
very  subjection  with  a  dignity  and  beauty  more  attractive 
than  anv  outward  adorning. 

But,  while  it  is  the  part  of  the  gentler  sex  to  yield,  it  is 
the  part  of  the  stronger  to  support,  protect,  and  treat  with 
uniform  kindness  and  courtesy,  the  weaker.  Strength  and 
authority  give  the  husband  no  right  to  tyrannize  over  the 


DUTIES  OF  THE  MARRIAGE  RELATION.  205 


wife,  or  manifest  his  power  by  acts  of  unkindness,  or  any 
want  of  that  respect  and  affection  which  are  ever  her  due. 
He  is  to  provide  for  her  physical  wants,  her  comfortable 
maintenance  and  support.  He  is  to  protect  her,  so  far  as 
possible,  from  injury  and  insult.  He  is  to  be  her  guardian 
and  defender.  She  is  to  lean  upon  his  strength,  and  feel 
secure,  as  the  vine  clings  for  support  to  the  sturdy  oak, 
whose  rude,  strong  arms  are  able  to  defend  it  against  the 
winds  and  storms. 

Nor  is  the  relation  of  the  wife  one  of  entire  dependence, 
but  rather  of  reciprocal  aid.  She  has  her  part  to  bear, 
and  to  perform,  of  the  duties  and  struggles,  the  cares  and 
toils  of  life.  She  is  not  to  hang  as  a  mere  useless  weight 
upon  the  stronger  arm,  but  rather  to  stay  and  strengthen 
that  arm,  and  make  it  firmer  and  bolder  for  its  work. 
The  labors  of  providing  for  the  physical  wants  and  main¬ 
tenance  of  the  household,  are  to  be  shared  in  common  ;  the 
duties  of  the  husband  lying,  for  the  most  part,  in  labors 
without,  and  those  of  the  wife  in  labors  performed  within 
the  house.  In  these  she  is  to  bear  her  part  cheerfully,  and 
with  good  courage ;  and  whether  in  wealth  or  in  poverty, 
in  sickness  or  in  health,  in  comfort  or  in  distress,  —  what¬ 
ever  the  varied  lot  of  life  may  be,  —  she  is  in  all  to  be  a 
sharer  and  a  helper.  If  the  arm  on  whose  protection  and 
strength  she  relies  is  disabled  and  stricken  down,  she  is,  so 
far  as  possible,  to  assume  the  cares  and  duties  which  have 
hitherto  devolved  upon  the  stronger,  —  as  the  faithful  vine 
still  clings  to  the  broken  branch,  —  and  hold  up  in  its 
weakness  that  on  which  she  has  leaned  for  support. 

Still  another  duty  devolves  on  those  who  sustain  to  each 
other  the  marriage  relation,  —  that  of  mutual  affection. 
\\  here  this  is  wanting,  or  where,  having  once  existed,  it  is 
suffered  to  die  out,  the  marriage  tie  becomes  irksome,  and 
that  which  should  lend  a  charm  to  life,  only  adds  to  its 

18 


206  DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 

burden.  There  must  be  respect,  kindness,  courtesy,  honor, 
fidelity,  from  each  to  each,  —  these,  but  not  these  alone; 
there  must  be  something  more  than  these,  or  the  principle 
on  which  the  marriage  contract  is  based  is  wanting,  and 
the  contract  itself  becomes  virtually  null.  Where  there 
is  no  true  affection,  marriage  is  but  a  form,  from  which 
the  soul  has  fled.  This,  then,  must  in  truth  be  regarded 
as  one  of  the  first  and  most  imperative  duties  of  the  mar¬ 
riage  state,  —  to  cherish  each  that  pure  and  true  affection 
for  the  other  which  the  sacred  bond  implies,  and  which 
is  essential  to  the  happiness,  if  not  to  the  continuance  of 
the  relation.  That  bond  and  sacred  vow  are  in  reality 
broken,  let  it  ever  be  remembered,  not  merely  by  unlaw¬ 
ful  intercourse  with  others,  but  by  any  neglect,  unkind¬ 
ness,  desertion,  withdrawal  of  mutual  confidence,  and 
mutual  regard.  The  want  of  affection  is  itself  a  violation 
of  duty,  and  where  it  continues,  amounts  to  a  virtual  sun¬ 
dering  of  the  marriage  tie. 


CHAPTER  II. 

DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 

§  I.  —  Duties  of  Parents. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  parent  to  provide  for  the  physical 
w  ants  of  his  children,  and  also  to  educate  them,  in  such 
a  manner  as  shall  best  prepare  them  for  the  duties  of 
life,  and  the  stations  which  they  are  to  occupy  in  society, 
and  best  conduce  to  their  happiness,  temporal  and  eternal.. 
The  end  in  view,  in  all  family  nurture  and  training,  is, 
directly,  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  the  child,  both 


DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION.  207 


present  and  future ;  indirectly,  the  demands  of  society 
and  the  state ;  ultimately,  and  as  inclusive  of  all  others, 
the  claims  of  God. 

The  family,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  an  institution 
peculiar  and  complete  within  itself —  having  its  own  laws, 
its  own  rights  and  interests,  its  own  end.  Nevertheless,  it 
does  not  exist  for  itself  alone.  It  has  its  relations  to  other 
objects  and  other  institutions,  its  duties  to  perform,  its 
office  to  accomplish.  Prominent  among  these  duties,  and 
one  chief  end  for  which  it  exists,  is  the  training  and  prep¬ 
aration  of  the  children  for  those  duties  which  they  owe  to 
themselves ,  to  society ,  and  to  their  Maker .  Whatever 
tends  to  promote  this,  furthers  the  great  design  and  end 
of  the  family  as  an  institution;  whatever  interferes  with 
and  prevents  this,  frustrates  that  design. 

This  general  object  includes  several  specific  ends  or 
duties,  for  which  the  parent  is  responsible. 

1.  Maintenance.  —  The  duty  of  the  parent  is  to  sup¬ 
port  the  child  during  his  years  of  minority,  and  provide  for 
all  his  physical  wants.  Infancy  and  childhood  are  helpless 
and  inexperienced,  unable  to  provide  for  themselves,  de¬ 
pendent  of  necessity  on  the  watchful  care  and  protection 
of  the  parent.  Without  that  care  and  provision,  they 
must  inevitably  perish,  unless,  indeed,  some  other  takes 
the  place  of  the  parent.  Parents  are  the  natural  guar¬ 
dians  and  providers  for  the  wants  of  their  children.  The 
deep  and  strong  affection  which  nature  has  implanted 
in  the  bosom,  looks  to  this  end,  and  was  designed  as  the 
basis  and  security  for  the  discharge  of  this  important 
trust ;  nor  can  this  trust  be  devolved  upon  another,  except 
in  case  of  death  or  inability,  without  positive  violation 
of  dutv. 


208  DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 

m 

The  manner  in  which  this  duty  shall  be  performed, 
must  depend  upon  the  circumstances  of  the  family,  and 
the  general  position  in  life  which  the  child  may  properly 
be  expected  to  occupy.  The  children  of  the  rich  and  the 
poor  cannot  be  alike  provided  for;  the  one  will  have  more 
and  better  food  and  clothing  than  the  other.  The  parent 
does  his  duty  when  he  provides  for  the  support  of  his  chil¬ 
dren  according  to  the  best  of  his  ability  and  judgment, 
and  according  to  his  own  circumstances.  Nor  need  he 
reproach  himself,  when  this  is  done,  because  his  limited 
means  have  not  allowed  him  to  bring  up  his  children  in 
that  affluence  which  others  can  command ;  since  the  sim- 
pie  habits  of  frugality  and  industry,  which  the  lessons  of 
honest  poverty  are  most  likely  to  teach,  are  in  themselves 
of  greater  value  to  the  household,  than  any  amount  of 
wealth,  or  any  degree  of  refinement. 

2.  Government.  —  The  family  is  a  little  society,  a  min¬ 
iature  state ;  and  every  society,  every  state,  must  have  its 
laws,  its  government.  The  government  of  the  family  is 
entrusted  to  the  parents,  both  by  the  nature  of  the  case 
and  by  divine  authority ;  and  the  faithful  administration 
of  this  government  is  a  duty  which  they  owe  both  to  the 
household,  to  the  state,  and  to  God.  For  the  manner  in 
which  they  discharge  this  duty,  they  are  directly  responsi¬ 
ble  to  Him  who  instituted  the  family  relation,  and  who 
placed  in  their  charge  this  solemn  trust.  The  end  of  the 
family  institution  is  to  train  its  members  for  the  service  of 
the  state,  and  the  service  of  God,  in  whatever  stations 
they  may  hereafter  be  called  to  fill ;  and  both  the  state, 
or  society  in  its  organized  capacity,  and  God,  have  a 
claim  upon  the  parents  for  the  faithful  performance  of  this 
important  trust. 

“  The  family,”  it  has  been  well  said,  “  is  but  a  nursery 


DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION.  209 


for  higher  and  broader  spheres  of  action.  In  it  are  to  be 
planted  the  seeds,  and  there  are  to  be  nurtured  the  germs, 
which  are  to  have  their  full  development,  and  bear  their 
fruit,  in  future  years,  and  in  other  worlds.” 

It  is  not  merely,  then,  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  the 
household,  as  such,  while  gathered  under  one  roof,  —  al¬ 
though  this  is  in  itself  a  most  important  end  to  be  secured, 
—  but  it  is  also  the  welfare  and  highest  usefulness  and 
happiness  of  its  members,  when  they  shall  be  no  longer 
under  the  sheltering  roof  that  covered  them  in  the  happy 
days  of  childhood,  but  shall  have  their  own  part  to  act, 
and  their  own,  it  may  be,  arduous  and  trying  duties  to 
perform  in  the  busy,  toiling  world, —  it  is  this*  higher  and 
ultimate  end  that  is  to  be  reached,  if  at  all,  by  means  of 
family  government.  Where  this  is  duly  administered,  the 
household  is  trained  to  habits  of  order  and  obedience; 
the  child  grows  up  under  a  system  in  which  he  learns  the 
cardinal  virtue  of  submission  to  authority,  and  is  thus 
fitted  to  become  a  useful  member  of  society.  Where,  on 
the  contrary,  parental  government  is  not  enforced,  the 
lessons  of  obedience  are  not  learned,  and  the  child  goes 
forth  into  society,  unused  to  the  wholesome  restraints  of 
law,  untaught  to  submit  to  the  will  and  authority  of  those 
whose  right  it  is  to  govern,  unfitted  for  the  responsible 
duties  of  the  citizen ;  in  many  respects,  a  useless,  if  not 
positively  dangerous  member  of  the  community. 

To  whom  entrusted.  —  The  duty  of  maintaining  author¬ 
ity,  and  administering  the  government  of  the  household, 
is,  by  the  law  of  nature,  and  the  relation  of  the  parties, 
entrusted  to  the  parents.  It  is  their  province  and  right 
to  govern  —  the  province  and  duty  of  the  child  to  obey. 
This  is  a  divine  arrangement,  the  foundation  of  which  lies 
in  the  constitution  of  our  nature.  It  is  not  a  merely 

18* 


210  DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 


arbitrary  and  conventional  arrangement,  b#u*t  the  design 
and  law  of  the  Creator.  No  duty  is  more  clearly  enjoined 
in  the  Scriptures,  and  none  entails  a  severer  penalty  on 
those  who  neglect  and  violate  it. 

The  parent  is  not,  however,  to  use  this  authority  as 
abusing  it.  He  is  not  to  govern,  merely  for  the  sake  and 
from  the  love  of  governing,  in  an  arbitrary  and  unreason¬ 
able  manner.  He  is  ever  to  keep  in  mind  the  end  of  dis¬ 
cipline,  as  already  pointed  out ;  that  is,  the  highest  welfare 
and  happiness  of  all  the  members  of  the  household.  As 
a  safeguard  against  abuse,  Providence  has  wisely  thrown 
around  this  delegated  authority  the  restraints  of  parental 
affection.  The  power  to  govern  is  lodged  in  safe  hands ; 
the  heart  of  the  parent  pleads  for  mercy,  while  his  sense 
of  justice  demands  the  punishment  of  the  offender. 

As  the  parties  united  in  marriage  are  one,  the  authority 
of  the  parents  is  a  joint  and  concurrent  authority;  and 
inasmuch  as  the  end  of  all  family  discipline  is  one  of  com¬ 
mon  interest  to  both  the  parents,  there  can,  ordinarily,  be 
little  danger  of  any  conflict  of  views  or  interests  in  its 
administration.  Should  such  difference  arise,  as  there 
must  be  some  ultimate  appeal,  the  supreme  authority  rests, 
by  common  consent,  by  the  nature  of  the  case,  and  by  the 
laws  of  the  land,  with  the  father,  as  the  rightful  head  of 
the  family,  and  source  of  ultimate  authority. 

3.  Education.  —  The  duty  of  the  parent  is  not  entirely 
discharged  when  provision  has  been  made  for  the  physical 
wants  of  the  household,  and  for  its  due  government.  The 
child  is  not  only  to  be  fed,  and  clothed,  and  governed,  but 
suitably  educated ;  and  this  education  must  have  reference 
to  the  whole  development  and  training,  both  physical  and 
moral ,  as  well  as  intellectual . 


DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION.  211 

Physical  Culture .  —  It  must  have  reference  to  the 
physical  training .  A  good  physical  constitution  is  one 
of  the  greatest  earthly  advantages ;  and  this,  so  far  as  it 
depends  on  any  care  and  skill  of  treatment  after  birth, 
is  to  be  secured  by  every  means  in  the  power  of  the  par¬ 
ent.  Parental  ignorance  and  negligence  have,  doubtless, 
much  to  do  with  the  feeble  health,  the  broken  constitu¬ 
tion,  the  life  of  suffering,  and  the  premature  decay  and 
death,  of  many  a  household.  The  physical  culture,  the 
health  and  strength  of  the  child,  is  the  first  and  most 
important  object  to  be  attained ;  and  due  attention  to 
this  object  is  the  first  and  most  imperative  of  parental 
duties.  Care  must  be  taken  to  regulate  the  food,  the 
dress,  the  exercise,  the  hours  of  rest,  the  entire  habits  of 
life,  as  affecting  the  physical  constitution ;  to  avoid  all 
such  indulgence  on  the  one  hand,  and  all  such  hardship 
and  exposure  on  the  other,  as  shall  endanger  the  health, 
or  injure  the  constitution  of  the  child.  For  all  this  the 
parent  is  responsible  ;  and  if,  by  carelessness,  neglect,  or 
want  of  skill,  he  fails  in  the  performance  of  his  duty,  not 
himself  only,  not  the  child  only,  nor  the  family  only,  but 
other  and  wider  interests  receive  an  injury;  society  suf¬ 
fers,  the  state  is  a  loser,  and  claims  still  higher  than  these 
are  forgotten.  As  regards  both  the  service  of  the  state, 
and  the  service  of  God,  the  true  end  of  family  culture 
looks,  first  of  all,  at  the  physical  health  and  vigor,  —  aims  to 
secure  that,  —  and  fails  of  its  grand  and  ulterior  designs 
very  much  in  proportion  as  it  fails  in  that.  If  that  is 
overlooked ;  if,  by  neglect,  or  mistaken  indulgence,  habits 
unfavorable  to  health  and  manly  development  are  formed ; 
if,  as  sometimes  happens,  the  selfishness  and  avarice  of 
the  parent  lead  him  to  expose  his  child  to  an  amount  of 
toil  and  hardship  unsuited  to  its  tender  years,  —  then, 
whatever  suffering  may  ensue,  whatever  loss  to  the  child 


212  DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 


in  subsequent  years  of  life,  whatever  to  society,  and  to  the 
cause  of  God,  the  responsibility  and  the  guilt  must  rest 
with  fearful  weight  upon  that  negligent,  that  indulgent, 
or  that  selfish  parent. 

Intellectual  Culture.  —  The  intellect ,  also,  is  to  receive 
its  education.  The  germs  of  whatever  power  and  great¬ 
ness  it  may  afterward  attain,  lie  in  the  mind  at  the  out¬ 
set;  they  are  to  be  developed  and  nurtured  by  careful 
and  skilful  training.  The  intellect  comes  to  maturity, 
and  possession  of  its  own  proper  strength,  only  by  cul¬ 
ture  and  discipline.  Left  in  ignorance,  its  faculties  im¬ 
perfectly  unfolded  and  developed,  its  condition  will  inev¬ 
itably  be  that  of  weakness  and  imbecility,  as  compared 
with  what  it  might  be,  and  was  designed  to  be. 

A  thorough  education,  if  not  invaluable,  is,  at  least,  of 
higher  value  to  the  child  than  any  amount  of  treasure, 
or  any  position  in  society  which  mere  wealth  or  the  acci¬ 
dent  of  birth  can  command.  It  is  itself  the  highest  for¬ 
tune,  the  richest  treasure.  He  who  has  it  cannot  well  be 
poor;  he  who  is  destitute  of  it,  whatever  else  he  may 
have,  cannot  be  truly  rich.  The  parent  has  no  right  to 
send  his  child  out  into  the  world  uneducated,  and,  in  con¬ 
sequence,  unfitted  for  the  highest  duties  of  life. 

The  process  of  education,  wisely  and  well  conducted, 
will  always  have  regard  to  two  things,  —  the  habits  and 
mental  peculiarities  of  the  child,  and  also  the  condition 
and  station  -in  life  for  which  it  is  to  be  fitted.  If  either 
of  these  is  overlooked,  the  great  end  of  education  —  that 
is,  the  highest  happiness  and  usefulness  of  the  child  in 
future  life  —  will  not  be  attained. 

The  care  of  this  mental  training,  at  first  devolving 
chiefly  on  the  parents,  may,  as  the  child  progresses,  be  in 
part,  but  never  viholly ,  transferred  to  other  teachers ;  never 
so  transferred  as  that  the  parent  shall  be  no  longer  respon- 


DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION.  213 


sible  for  the  manner  in  which  the  process  is  conducted, 
and  for  its  ultimate  success  or  failure.  No  pressure  of 
other  duties  can  atone  for  any  neglect  of  this;  nor  can 
any  fidelity  and  skill  of  the  teacher  compensate  for  the 
want  of  that  time  and  attention  which  the  parent  should 
still  bestow  on  the  intellectual  culture  and  progress  of 
the  child,  and  which  are  indispensable  to  the  most  suc¬ 
cessful  results. 

Moral  Culture.  —  Nor  is  the  moral  education  of  the 
child  to  be  overlooked.  The  manners,  the  disposition, 
the  heart,  the  religious  belief,  are  matters  requiring  care¬ 
ful  attention  and  culture.  If  the  mind  is  to  be  educated, 
not  less  the  heart.  Eternal  destinies,  and  not  merely  the 
present  welfare  and  happiness  of  the  child,  depend  on  the 
manner  in  which  this  part  of  his  education  is  conducted. 
Those  destinies  of  the  future  are  in  an  important  sense 
entrusted  to  the  decision  of  the  parent.  He  is  to  educate 
and  train  the  child,  not  merely  for  honor  and  usefulness 
on  earth,  but  for  immortality  and  eternal  life  ;  not  merely 
to  be  a  valuable  member  of  society,  but  a  citizen  of  the 
heavenly  kingdom,  and  a  partaker  of  the  heavenly  felicity. 
This  duty  neglected,  all  is  neglected ;  this  lost,  all  is  lost. 

The  moral  education  includes  not  merely  the  culture  of 
religious  feeling  toward  God,  as  the  direct  object  of  ado¬ 
ration  and  love,  but  of  all  morally  right  feeling  and  action 
—  of  all  that  is  pure,  and  lovely,  and  of  good  report.  It 
includes  the  checkins:  and  restraining  of  all  the  evil  desires 
and  propensities  of  the  child’s  nature ;  the  development 
and  careful  fostering  of  all  generous,  pure,  noble  senti¬ 
ments  and  principles  of  action;  the  vigilant  guarding 
against  all  evil  and  seductive  influences  to  which  the  in¬ 
experience  of  childhood  and  youth  may  be  exposed,  and 
by  which  it  may  so  easily  be  led  astray.  It  includes  pre¬ 
cept;  it  includes  example,  without  which  precept  will 


214  DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 


avail  nothing.  It  includes  the  thousand  influences  of  a 
well-ordered  religious  home,  constantly,  and  to  himself 
perhaps  unconsciously,  surrounding  the  child,  and  as  by 
silken  threads  leading  him  in  the  way  that  he  should  go. 
Happy  the  child  that  is  thus  led;  happy  the  home  to 
which  that  child  belongs,  and  in  which  such  influences 
dwell. 


§  II.  —  Duties  of  Children. 

The  duties  of  the  parent  and  of  the  child  are,  for  the 
most  part,  reciprocal  —  the  obligation  resting  upon  the 
one  necessarily  implying  a  corresponding  obligation  on 
the  part  of  the  other.  The  obligation  of  the  parent  to 
govern,  implies  the  duty  of  the  child  to  obey ;  the  obli¬ 
gation  of  the  parent  to  educate,  involves  the  duty  of  the 
child  to  yield  to  and  be  guided  by  this  care  and  culture. 

There  are  also  duties  arising  from  the  relation  in  which 
the  parties  stand.  The  superior  wisdom  and  intelligence 
of  the  parent,  no  less  than  his  authority,  demand  respect 
and  reverence  from  the  child.  The  care  and  love  which 
have  watched  over  the  helplessness  of  'childhood,  and 
provided  for  its  wants,  and  sacrificed  much  for  its  good, 
demand  in  return  filial  gratitude  and  affection.  These, 
then,  as  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  case,  are  the 
principal  duties  of  the  child  toward  the  parent,  viz.,  obe¬ 
dience, ,  docility ,  reverence ,  filial  affection . 

1.  Obedience.  —  It  is  the  duty  of  the  child  to  yield  un¬ 
reserved  and  unquestioned  obedience  to  the  authority  and 
commands  of  the  parent;  and  this  obedience  must  be  irre¬ 
spective  of  the  why  and  wherefore  of  the  command,  of 
the  wdsdom  and  necessity  of  the  course  prescribed ;  it 
must  be  rendered  as  obedience  to  authority,  and  to  the 


DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 


215 


will  of  the  parent,  because  it  is  his  will.  In  no  other  way 
can  the  end  of  family  government  be  attained,  the  peace 
and  order  of  the  household  be  promoted,  the  welfare  of 
the  child  secured. 

The  duty  of  obedience  is  manifest  not  only  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  and  from  the  end  of  family  government, 
but  from  the  word  of  God.  No  duty  is  more  explicitly 
and  emphatically  enjoined  in  the  Scriptures  than  this: 
“  Children,  obey  your  parents  in  the  Lord  ;  for  this  is  right  ” 
(Eph.  vi.  1).  And  again,  “Children,  obey  your  parents  in 
all  things;  for  this  is  well-pleasing  unto  the  Lord”  (Col. 
iii.  20).  To  disobey  the  commands  of  the  parent,  is,  then, 
to  be  guilty  of  a  double  crime :  it  is  to  violate  at  once 
the  law  of  the  household,  and  the  law  of  God. 

Limit  of  Authority.  —  But  here  an  important  question 
arises,  respecting  the  limits  of  parental  authority.  Are 
there  any  limits?  Is  the  child  under  obligation  to  yield 
obedience  to  any  and  all  commands  of  the  parent,  what¬ 
ever  they  maybe?  Suppose  the  parent  order  him  to  do 
that  which  is  manifestly  wrong,  as,  to  break  the  Sabbath, 
or  to  steal,  or  to  lie,  or  in  any  manner  to  break  the  laws 
of  the  state,  or  the  laws  of  God ;  is  he  then  to  obey  ? 

I  reply,  by  no  means.  The  parent  has  no  right  to  give 
such  commands,  and,  therefore,  they  are  not  binding  on 
the  conscience  of  the  child.  Whenever  the  child  is  ordered 
to  do  that  which  he  knows  and  fully  believes  to  be  wrong, 
he  is  under  no  obligation  to  obey ;  nay,  he  has  no  right  to 
obey.  When  the  law  of  the  parent  comes  into  conflict 
manifestly  and  directly  with  the  law  of  the  state,  or  with 
the  law  of  God,  these,  which  are  higher  laws,  must  be 
obeyed.  The  authority  of  the  state  is  above  that  of  the 
parent;  and  the  authority  of  the  Supreme  and  Almighty 
Ruler  is  above  both.  The  child  must  do  rigdit,  and  suffer 
the  consequences ;  the  responsibility  rests  with  the  parent. 


216  DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 


When  there  is  any  donbt  as  to  the  real  character  of  the  act 
required,  —  any  uncertainty  whether  it  is,  in  fact,  a  wrong 
act,  and  in  conflict  with  the  divine  commands,  —  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  authority  of  the  parent  should  in  all  such 
cases  be  held  as  decisive,  until  at  least  clearer  light  can  be 
obtained  as  to  the  path  of  duty.  Under  ordinary  circum¬ 
stances,  the  parent,  from  his  superior  intelligence,  and 
greater  experience,  is  certainly  more  likely  to  know  what 
is  right  and  proper  than  the  child ;  hence,  in  matters  of 
doubtful  character,  it  is  safer  to  follow  the  decisions  of  the 
parent,  even  at  the  risk  of  doing  wrong,  than  to  incur  the 
at  least  equal  risk  of  doing  wrong  by  disobedience. 

2.  Docility.  —  As  the  duty  of  the  parent  is  to  teach,  to 
educate,  so  the  duty  of  the  child  is  to  learn.  It  is  for  him 
to  yield,  with  docile  spirit,  to  the  culture  and  training 
which  the  parent  sees  fit  to  adopt.  In  physical  nature,  and 
mental  discipline ;  in  the  education  of  the  manners  and  the 
heart ;  in  all  that  joertains  to  the  culture,  in  its  highest  and 
most  comprehensive  sense,  of  body,  mind,  and  soul, —  the 
child  is  to  hold  himself  ready,  within  those  limits  already 
specified,  to  be  instructed,  moulded,  trained,  by  parental 
wisdom  and  care.  In  fault  of  this,  all  efforts  of  instruction 
will  be  unavailing,  and  the  great  end  of  family  nurture  and 
discipline  will  be  un attained.  A  stubborn  and  unyielding 
spirit,  that  sets  itself  in  opposition  to  the  wisdom  and  the 
counsels  of  the  parent,  and  refuses  to  be  guided  thereby, 
is  in  itself  a  sin  most  deserving  of  rebuke,  and  which  in¬ 
curs,  wherever  found,  the  special  displeasure  of  God.  Very 
marked  is  the  condemnation  bestowed  upon  this  sin  in  the 
Scriptures.  Under  the  Jewish  law,  it  was  even  punishable 
with  death.  “If  a  man  have  a  stubborn  and  rebellious 
son,  wThich  will  not  obey  the  voice  of  his  father,  or  the 
voice  of  his  mother,  and  that,  when  they  have  chastened 


DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION.  217 


him,  will  not  hearken  to  them :  then  shall  his  father  and 
his  mother  lay  hold  on  him,  and  bring  him  out  unto  the 
elders  of  his  city,  and  unto  the  gate  of  his  place ;  and  they 
shall  say  unto  the  elders  of  his  city,  this  our  son  is  stub¬ 
born  and  rebellious,  he  will  not  obey  our  voice ;  he  is  a 
glutton  and  a  drunkard.  And  all  the  men  of  his  city  shall 
stone  him  with  stones  that  he  die ;  so  shalt  thou  put  evil 
away  from  among  you,  and  all  Israel  shall  hear  and  fear  ” 
(Deut.  xxi.  18 — 21). 

Very  full  and  explicit  are  the  precepts  which  inculcate 
the  duty  ot  cherishing  the  opposite  spirit.  “My  son,  keep 
the  instruction  of  thy  father,  and  forsake  not  the  law  of 
thy  mother.  They  shall  be  an  ornament  of  grace  unto  thy 
head,  and  chains  about  thy  neck”  (Prov.  i.  8,  9).  “Keep 
thy  father’s  commandments,  and  forsake  not  the  law  of 
thy  mother”  (Prov.  vi.  20).  “A  fool  despiseth  his  father’s 
instructions”  (Prov.  xv.  5).  “A  wise  son  heareth  his 
father’s  instructions,  but  a  scorner  heareth  not  rebuke  ” 
(Prov.  xiii.  1). 

3.  Reverence.  —  It  is  the  duty  of  the  child  to  treat  his 
parents  with  that  deference  and  respect  that  belong  to 
those  who  are  his  superiors  in  age  and  wisdom,  as  well  as 
in  authority.  Nothing  is  more  unbecoming  in  a  child 
than  any  want  of  respect  toward  his  superiors,  and  espe¬ 
cially  toward  his  parents.  They  sustain  to  him  a  relation 
which  peculiarly  demands  of  him  this  deferential  regard. 
They  are  the  authors  of  his  life.  To  them  he  is  indebted 
for  the  care  and  attention  which  have  watched  over  him 

I  + 

from  infancy,  provided  for  his  wants,  directed  his  educa¬ 
tion.  To  them  he  is  rightfully  subject  by  the  laws  of  God 
and  man ;  and  to  those  sustaining  to  him  this  relation,  and 
exercising  this  authority,  he  is  bound,  by  the  laws  of  nature 

19 


218  DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 


and  reason,  to  yield  a  respect  and  reverence  which  are  due 
to  no  one  else  on  the  earth. 

Nor  is  this  claim  abrogated  by  any  rank  or  attainments 
on  the  part  of  the  child,  or  by  any  deficiency  of  intellectual, 
social,  or  even  moral  worth  and  rank,  on  the  part  of  the 
parent.  These  circumstances  alter  not  the  relation  of  the 
two  parties.  The  child,  as  he  grows  to  maturity,  may  come 
to  be  wiser,  wealthier,  more  distinguished,  more  virtuous 
even,  than  those  who  gave  him  birth,  and  brought  him 
up  from  infancy  to  youth  and  manhood.  He  is  not,  on 
these  accounts,  excused  from  paying  to  them,  so  long  as  he 
lives,  and  they  live,  that  respect  and  reverence  which  are 
still  their  due,  and  which  every  generous  and  manly  spirit 
will  esteem  it  a  delight  and  an  honor  to  show. 

The  end  of  the  family  institution,  so  far  as  the  child  is 
concerned,  is  to  fit  him  for  the  service  of  the  state,  and 
the  service  of  his  God  ;  to  be  an  honorable  and  useful 
member  of  society,  and  a  candidate  for  immortal  blessed- 
ness.  In  no  way  is  this  end  more  surely  defeated,  than  by 
the  want  of  due  respect  toward  the  parents;  in  no  way 
more  directly  promoted,  than  by  the  careful  observance  of 
this  duty.  He  who  has  not  learned,  or  who  has  scorned 
to  pay  due  respect  and  reverence  to  his  parents,  will  not 
be  likely  to  bow  with  submission  and  reverence  before  the 
majesty  of  the  law.  He  who  is  wanting  in  deference  to  his 
earthly  superiors  and  protectors,  will  not  be  likely  to  yield 
the  homage  of  the  heart  to  his  heavenly  Father,  or  to 
humble  himself,  in  adoration  and  lowliness  of  mind,  before 
the  Majesty  of  heaven  and  earth.  He  is  poorly  fitted  for 
the  duties  of  life,  for  the  service  of  the  state,  and  the  ser¬ 
vice  of  his  God,  who  knows  not  how  to  honor  his  parents. 

Nothing  is  more  graceful  and  fitting,  nothing  more  hon¬ 
orable  and  ennobling  to  the  character,  than  the  exercise 
of  this  virtue;  nothing,  on  the  other  hand,  more  unseemly, 


DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION.  219 


and  dishonorable,  than  the  opposite  vice.  The  blessing  of 
God  attends  the  one ;  his  frown  and  curse,  the  other. 
“ Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother  —  which  is  the  first 
commandment  with  promise  —  that  it  may  be  well  with 
thee,  and  thou  mayest  live  long  on  the  earth”  (Eph.  vi.  2, 
referring  to  Ex.  xx.  12).  “Cursed  be  he  that  setteth  light 
by  his  father  or  his  mother;  and  all  the  people  shall  say, 
Amen”  (Deut.  xxvii.  16).  And  yet  again:  “The  eye  that 
mocketh  at  his  father,  and  despiseth  to  obey  his  mother, 
the  ravens  of  the  valley  shall  pluck  it  out,  and  the  young 
eagles  shall  eat  it”  (Prov.  xxx.  17). 

4.  Filial  Affection  and  Gratitude.  —  The  duties 
which  have  already  been  named  are  incomplete  without  this. 
Those  offices  are  to  be  performed  not  merely  as  duties,  and 
because  they  are  required  by  the  laws  and  customs  of  soci- 
ety,  by  self-respect,  and  by  the  divine  command,  but  from 
a  higher  principle  than  the  single  sense  of  duty,  —  from 
love,  the  pure  affection  and  deep  gratitude  of  the  heart. 
The  relation  in  which  our  parents  stand  to  us,  entitles 
them  to  our  sincere  affection  and  gratitude.  To  no  human 
beings  are  we  so  much  indebted  as  to  them.  They  have 
given  us  being;  they  have  provided  for  our  physical 
wants ;  have  fed  and  clothed  us ;  have  watched  our  steps 
by  day,  and  our  slumbers  by  night ;  have  denied  themselves, 
that  they  might  make  better  provision  for  us ;  have  edu¬ 
cated  us  in  whatever  of  useful  learning  and  of  good  man¬ 
ners  we  have  acquired  ;  have  done  what  they  could  —  it  is 
to  be  hoped  — to  train  us  for  usefulness  and  happiness 
here  and  hereafter.  As  we  grow  up,  we  may  possibly  per¬ 
ceive  faults  of  character  in  them,  —  faults,  perhaps,  in  their 
mode  of  educating  and  governing  us;  but  no  such  defects, 
whether  real  or  imagined,  can  ever  discharge  the  obligation 
on  our  part  of  true  and  earnest  gratitude  .and  love. 


220  DUTIES  OF  THE  PARENTAL  RELATION. 


The  character  that  is  wanting  in  this,  is  wanting  in  all 
that  is  manly  and  noble.  The  heart  that  lacks  this  emo¬ 
tion,  is  essentially  a  mean  and  selfish  heart. 

Nor  is  this  duty  one  that  ceases  to  be  required  of  us  as 
we  come  ourselves  to  manhood.  Time,  in  its  never-ceasing 
progress,  reverses  the  order  in  which  life  began :  the  child 
becomes  a  parent,  and  the  parent  by-and-by  becomes 
again  a  child.  The  arms  that  held  us  in  infancy,  require 
now  the  strength  of  our  more  robust  and  vigorous  forms ; 
the  hands  that  toiled  and  the  feet  that  moved  so  readily 
for  all  our  wants,  must  now  depend  on  us  for  support.  By 
every  little  act  of  kindness  and  attention,  by  all  the  sweet 
and  soothing  ministry  of  love,  it  is  for  us  to  discharge  that 
debt.  Happy  for  us,  if,  over  the  grave  of  a  parent,  we 
never  have  occasion  to  drop  a  tear  of  regret  that  we  were 
in  any  measure  negligent  of  this  sacred  duty. 


PART  IT. 

DUTIES  TO  THE  STATE. 

CHAPTER  I. 

NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION  OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 

It  has  already  been  remarked  that  there  exist  in  the 
world  two  great  and  distinct  institutions,  —  the  Family 
and  the  State ,  —  having  each  its  own  organization,  its  own 
laws,  its  own  object,  its  own  proper  duties.  Of  these,  the 
former  has  already  occupied  our  attention,  and  we  approach 
now  the  consideration  of  the  latter. 

The  State  what .  —  In  order  to  clearness,  we  must  as¬ 
certain  precisely  what  is  meant  by  the  state.  I  under¬ 
stand  by  the  state,  a  community  organized  under  one  form 
or  system  of  government,  and  dwelling  together,  under 
that  government,  in  one  and  the  same  territory.  Those 
thus  associated  for  purposes  of  government,  compose  the 
state. 

The  word  is  frequently  employed  in  a  somewhat  differ¬ 
ent  sense  from  that  now  given,  —  sometimes,  to  denote  the 
idea  of  civil  government  in  the  abstract,  without  reference 
to  the  aggregate  of  individuals  that  compose  the  state ; 
sometimes,  also,  to  denote  the  power  that  exercises  author¬ 
ity  and  administers  law  in  the  community  thus  organized 

19* 


222 

Jm. 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


—  as  when  Louis  Fourteenth  of  France  declared,  “  I  am  the 
state.” 

The  true  idea,  however,  of  the  state,  I  take  to  be  that 
already  given.  When  we  speak  of  the  family,  or  of  the 
state,  as  institutions,  we  do  indeed  use  those  terms  ab¬ 
stractly;  but  when  we  come  to  define  more  fully  our 
meaning,  we  say,  the  family  is  a  little  community,  consist¬ 
ing  of  those  related  by  ties  of  marriage  and  consanguinity, 
dwelling  under  one  roof,  and  holding  property  in  com¬ 
mon  ;  and,  in  like  manner,  we  say,  the  state  is  a  larger 
community,  organized  under  one  form  of  government,  and 
dwelling  together  in  the  same  country  or  territory. 

Not  every  Community  a  State.  —  It  is  not  every  and 
any  community,  or  company  of  men,  that  constitutes  a 
state,  even  though  they  may  inhabit  the  same  territory. 
They  must  be  an  organized  community,  and  that  for  the 
purpose  of  government  —  a  united  whole,  bound  together 
by  one  and  the  same  system  of  civil  administration.  A 
herd  of  wild  beasts  roaming  together  over  the  western 
prairies  is  a  community ;  a  horde  of  savages,  scarcely  less 
wild  and  lawless,  may  dwell  together  without  the  forms 
of  civilized  society  ;  but  neither  of  these  communities  is  a 
state.  Those  who  came  over  in  the  pilgrim  bark,  the 
May-Flower,  were  a  community,  united  in  one  and  the 
same  great  enterprise,  yet  only  a  collection  of  separate 
families  and  individuals,  and  nothing  more,  until,  in  the 
cabin  of  that  little  vessel,  there  was  drawn  up  the  instru¬ 
ment  that  constituted  them  an  organized  community,  and 
prescribed  the  form  of  their  future  government ;  that  in¬ 
strument  drawn  and  signed,  they  became  from  that  moment 
a  state. 

It  will  be  to  our  purpose,  in  the  further  discussion  of  the 
subject  proposed  for  consideration  in  the  present  chapter, 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


223 

to  inquire  as  to  the  origin  and  object  of  civil  government 
—  how  such  an  institution  ever  came  to  be,  and  for  what 
ends  designed  ;  also,  as  to  the  foundation  on  which  it 
rests  —  whence  comes  its  authority.  These  topics  will  be 
discussed  in  the  following  sections. 

§  I.  —  Origin  and  Object  of  Civil  Government. 

Origin  of  Civil  Government.  —  If  we  inquire  for  the 
origin  of  this  institution, —  the  manner  in  which  such  a  thing 
as  the  state,  or  civil  government,  came  to  be,  —  we  must  go 
back,  doubtless,  to  a  very  early  period  of  civilization  —  to 
the  first  rude  beginnings  of  human  history.  The  germ  of 
civil  authority  lies,  if  I  mistake  not,  in  the  family;  the 
members  of  which,  united  by  closest  ties  of  sympathy  and 
common  interest,  are  subject  to  the  parental  authority  and 
control.  This  is  the  first  form  of  obedience,  and  the  first 
kind  of  government.  “  A  family,”  it  is  well  said  by  Paley, 
“  contains  the  rudiments  of  an  empire.  The  authority  of 
one  over  many,  and  the  disposition  to  govern  and  to  be 
governed,  are  in  this  way  incidental  to  the  very  nature, 
and  coeval,  no  doubt,  with  the  existence  of  the  human 
species.” 

It  is  easy  to  see  how,  from  this  simple  beginning,  the 
principle  of  civil  government,  taking  its  rise,  may  have  ex¬ 
tended,  till,  as  now,  it  embraces  nations  and  centuries  in 
its  sweep.  The  respect  and  homage  due  to  the  wisdom 
•  and  authority  of  the  parent,  do  not  cease  when  the  children 
approach  the  maturity  of  riper  years.  Around  the  tent  of 
the  father  gather,  in  process  of  time,  the  tents  of  the  chil¬ 
dren  ;  the  government  of  the  family  becomes  gradually  the 
government  of  many  families,  all  united  by  ties  of  consan¬ 
guinity  and  common  origin,  all  owing  and  owning  allegi¬ 
ance  to  a  common  ancestor.  The  general  dii’ection  and 


224 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


control  of  the  little  community,  thus  enlarged  by  succes 
sive  generations,  would,  by  common  consent,  be  vested  in 
the  hands  of  that  aged  and  honored  ancestor,  the  patriarch 
of  the  flock,  the  chief  of  the  tribe.  And  thus  we  have  the 
second  step  in  the  formation  of  civil  government. 

The  rapid  increase  of  such  a  community  would  enlarge 
the  boundaries  of  the  original  dominion,  until,  in  course  of 
time,  the  chief  or  patriarch  of  the  tribe  becomes  the  ruler 
of  the  nation.  Large  communities  and  empires  would 
grow  out  of  small  ones,  not  only  by  the  laws  of  natural 
growth,  and  increase  of  population,  but  by  accessions  of 
smaller  and  weaker  tribes  forming:  alliance  with  the 
stronger,  for  purposes  of  mutual  advantage. 

The  patriarch  of  the  tribe,  or  chief  of  the  clan,  would  be 
likely  to  gather  about  him  many  followers,  in  the  capacity 
of  servants  and  retainers,  dependent  on  his  bounty,  and 
obedient  to  his  command.  Possessions,  also,  of  land,  cat¬ 
tle,  jewels,  and  other  treasures,  would  accumulate  in  his 
keeping.  To  the  aristocracy  and  influence  of  birth  there 
would  in  this  way  be  added  the  authority  which  wealth 
bestows.  In  process  of  time,  as  the  wealth  of  the  tribe  in¬ 
creased,  and  its  numbers  augmented,  the  temptation  would 

be  felt  to  employ  these  resources  in  the  subjugation  of 

# 

neighboring  and  weaker  tribes.  The  chief  who  should 
thus  employ  his  personal  wealth  and  followers  to  enlarge 
the  boundaries,  and  extend  the  power  of  his  tribe,  would 
add  not  only  to  the  authority  of  his  clan,  but  to  his  own 
power  as  ruler ;  and  so  to  the  aristocracy  of  birth  and 
of  wealth  would  be  added  that  of  military  prowess.  This 
latter,  in  process  of  time,  and  of  human  affairs,  might  come 
to  be  of  more  consequence  than  either  of  the  former  as  an 
element  of  sovereignty. 

It  is  easy  to  see  how,  in  the  natural  course  of  things, 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


225 


these  causes,  combined,  or  even  singly,  would  lead  to  the 
formation  of  great  and  powerful  empires,  from  such  small 
beginnings  as  we  have  indicated.  And  it  is  easy  also  to  see 
how,  starting  with  the  idea  of  paternal  government  as  its 
source  and  germ,  —  that  is,  of  a  power  lodged  in  the  hands 
of  one ,  to  be  administered  at  his  discretion,  —  the  form  of 
civil  government  should  have  been,  in  theory  and  in  fact, 
essentially  the  power  and  authority  of  one  over  the  whole ; 
that  is,  monarchical . 

Whatever  theory  we  adopt  as  the  foundation  of  civil 
government,  —  whether  we  regard  it  as  of  direct  divine  au¬ 
thority,  or  as  founded  in  social  compact,  or  in  the  nature 
of  man,  —  there  can  be  little  doubt  that,  as  a  matter  of  his¬ 
tory,  its  origin  and  progress  have  been  essentially  what  I 
have  now  indicated. 

Object  of  Civil  Government.  —  Viewing  civil  govern¬ 
ment  as  an  existing  institution,  we  may  naturally  ask  what 
is  the  end  or  object  which  it  proposes  to  accomplish  ;  what 
is  the  use,  the  advantage,  the  necessity  for  anything  of  the 
sort;  why  should  not  every  man  be  his  own  ruler  and 
sovereign  ? 

The  sovereignty  of  the  individual,  I  reply,  would  be 
inconsistent  with  the  rights  and  freedom  of  the  whole. 
Every  member  of  the  community  has  an  interest  in  the 
conduct  of  every  other  member.  Every  man  is  a  com¬ 
posite  element  of  the  whole,  and  is  bound  to  consult  the 
interests  and  wishes  of  the  whole.  If  he  were  to  have  his 
own  way,  and  consult  only  his  own  pleasure  in  everything, 
his  choice  would  often  interfere  with  that  of  others,  and 
thus  would  result  a  conflict  of  choices ;  and  not  only 
would  injustice  thus  be  done,  often,  to  the  weaker  of  two 
parties,  but  the  general  peace  and  order  of  the  whole 


2-26 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 

/ 

would  be  disturbed.  “  The  freedom  of  the  individual,” 
it  has  been  well  said,  “is  the  bondage  of  the  community.” 

Objection .  —  But  will  not  the  same  thing  occur  if  gov¬ 
ernment  exists  ?  it  may  be  asked.  Will  that  insure  to 
every  man  his  choice  ?  Will  not  government  itself  inter¬ 
fere  with  the  choice  of  the  individual,  and  restrain  his 
freedom?  So  far  as  that  freedom  interferes  with  the 
general  freedom  and  the  general  order,  I  reply,  it  will 
doubtless  be  restrained  under  any  system  of  wise  and 
efficient  government;  and  so  far  as  this,  it  needs  to  be 
restrained.  In  the  nature  of  things,  not  every  man  can 
have  his  choice.  The  nearest  approximation  to  this  is, 
that  the  choice  of  the  greatest  number  shall  prevail ;  in 
other  words,  that  the  will  of  the  majority  shall  govern. 

In  proportion  as  any  government  carries  out  the  will  of 
the  majority,  and  legislates  for  the  good  of  the  whole,  it 
accomplishes  the  great  end  of  all  civil  government;  and  iu 
so  far  as  it  loses  sight  of  this,  or  fails  of  this,  it  fails  of 
reaching  that  end. 

O 

Suppose,  now,  that,  under  existing  government,  an  indi¬ 
vidual  finds  himself  ill-suited,  —  his  choices  interfered 
with,  his  wishes  disregarded,  his  rights  taken  from  him,  — 
what  redress,  it  may  be  asked,  remains  for  such  a  one? 
I  reply :  there  will  at  least  remain  one  resource,  after  all 
others  have  been  tried  in  vain.  If  he  finds  it  impossible 
to  obtain  justice,  and  to  enjoy  his  rights  in  the  community 
where  he  is,  let  him  peaceably  withdraw  from  it,  and  join 
some  other  which  he  likes  better ;  or,  if  none  such  can  be 
found,  it  is  in  his  power  to  cut  himself  off  entirely  from 
his  fellow-men,  and  live  in  a  desert  or  a  cave.  It  may  be 
a  hardship  to  do  this  ;  but  it  were  better  that  a  few  should 
suffer  hardship  and  loss,  than  that  the  many  should  be 
exposed  to  the  dangers  of  lawlessness  and  anarchy. 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


227 


Ends  to  be  secured . —  There  are  two  leading  objects 
ever  to  be  kept  in  view  and  secured  by  civil  government 
—  public  order  and  public  freedom;  —  the  former  for  the 
sake  of  the  latter,  and  the  latter  in  the  greatest  degree 
that  is  compatible  with  the  former.  These  ends  will  be 
most  effectually  secured  in  connection  with  the  highest 
civilization  and  most  rapid  progress  of  the  state.  What- 
ever  promotes  the  one,  promotes  also  the  other.  While, 
therefore,  the  state  may  not  propose  to  itself,  directly,  as 
an  end,  the  moral  and  religious  culture  and  character  of 
its  citizens,  it  may,  and  must,  aim  to  secure  this  as  a  means , 
and  a  necessary  means,  to  the  end  which  it  legitimately 
pursues,  viz.,  the  public  order  and  freedom.  Virtue  and 
religion  are  indispensable  to  the  highest  civilization  and 
elevation  of  the  people,  and  so  to  the  public  welfare,  and 
cannot  therefore  be  overlooked  by  any  wise  and  intelligent  - 
government. 

These  not  the  only  Objects  of  Civil  Government.  —  I 
have  spoken  of  order  and  freedom  as  leading  objects  to  be 
secured  by  civil  government ;  I  would  not  affirm  that  they 
are  the  only  objects  for  which  government  exists.  It  is 
possible,  certainly,  to  conceive  of  a  state  of  society  in  which 
every  man  should  be  upright  and  honest ;  in  which  the 
most  perfect  order  should  be  realized;  in  which  there 
should  be,  therefore,  no  crimes  to  punish,  no  lawlessness  to 
rebuke,  no  irregularity  or  disorder  to  provide  against.  In 
such  a  community,  as  there  would  be  the  most  perfect 
order,  so  also  there  would  be  the  highest  possible  degree 
of  public  freedom ;  consequently,  there  would  be  no  need 
of  government  for  these  ends.  If  these  were  the  only 
objects  for  which  civil  government  exists,  then  there  would 
be  no  need  of  government  at  all. 

\  et,  even  in  such  a  community,  there  would  still  be 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


something  for  government  to  do.  Its  occasion  and  its 
proper  functions  would  not  wholly  cease.  There  are 
certain  matters  of  public  utility  and  convenience  —  as,  for 
example,  the  coining  of  money,  the  making  of  roads,  the 
disposal  of  property  left  without  heirs,  the  regulation  of 
commerce  and  of  intercourse  with  other  countries  —  which 
could  not  well  be  arranged  without  the  existence  of  some 
form  of  government.  In  such  matters,  it  would  be  neces¬ 
sary  that  some  persons  should  be  authorized  to  act  in 
behalf  of  the  whole ;  and  such  authority  would  constitute, 
in  fact,  a  government. 


§  II.  —  Foundation  of  Civil  Government. 

m 

Having  considered,  in  the  preceding  section,  the  origin 
and  object  of  civil  government,  we  are  prepared  now  to 
inquire  as  to  its  foundation .  On  what  does  this  institution 
rest  as  its  basis  and  support?  Whence  does  it  derive  its 
authority?  IIow  comes  government,  in  the  person  of 
magistrate,  legislator,  judge,  and  in  the  form  of  law,  writ¬ 
ten  or  unwritten,  to  have  power  over  me,  to  restrain  and 
govern  my  conduct,  —  a  power  extending  to  my  person, 
my  property,  and  even  my  life?  What  right  has  it  to  do 
this,  and  whence  does  it  obtain  this  right?  Suppose  I 
should  deny  this  right,  and  refuse  this  control — what  then? 

Theory  of  Divine  Right .  —  There  have  been  various 
theories  respecting  this  matter.  According  to  some,  civil 
government  is  founded  in  the  will  of  God :  it  rests  on 
the  basis  of  a  divine  right .  This  theory  supposes  that 
civil  government  is  an  ordinance  of  God ;  that  as  marriage 
and  the  family  relation  were  of  direct  divine  appoint¬ 
ment,  so  likewise  the  state  ;  and  that  as  we  had  no  agency 
in  instituting,  so  we  have  no  choice  in  submitting  to  either 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


229 


of  these  arrangements,  and  no  right  to  alter  or  dispense 
with  either,  hut  must  take  both  as  established  facts,  —  part 
of  the  scheme  of  Providence  and  of  the  divine  order  of 
things,  to  which  it  is  the  duty  of  all  men  to  conform. 
We  are  under  government,  and  we  must  obey  it,  for  the 
same  reason  that  it  is  our  duty  to  obey  God  in  anything 
else  that  he  may  prescribe  for  us ;  and  this  obedience  must 
be  without  hesitation  or  question. 

This  view  derives  support  from  the  fact  that  civil  gov¬ 
ernment  originates ,  as  we  have  seen,  from  the  family  in¬ 
stitution,  —  having  its  root  there,  and  progressing,  by  slow 
and  natural  degrees,  to  its  full  and  mature  development. 
Now,  unquestionably,  the  family  is  an  institution  of  divine 
appointment,  —  a  fact  which  exists  by  special  arrangement 
and  design  of  Providence.  The  paternal  government  is 
one  under  which  we  find  ourselves  on  coming  into  the 
world,  and  which,  whether  we  will  or  not,  we  are  obliged 
to  obey.  And  as,  out  of  this  existing  fact,  this  authority 
independent  of  our  will,  civil  government  takes  its  rise, 
and  by  natural  stages  grows  to  be  what  it  is,  the  inference 
seems  plausible,  that  this  also,  like  that  from  which  it 
proceeds,  is  of  special  divine  authority. 

Foley's  View .  —  A  modified  form  of  this  theory  was 
advanced  by  Dr.  Paley,  who  bases  the  obligation  to  obey 
civil  government  on  the  will  of  God  as  collected  from 
expediency .  This  view  differs  from  the  preceding,  chiefly 
in  that  it  assigns  a  reason  for  the  will  of  God  being  what 
it  is,  viz.,  the  expediency  or  advantage  of  such  an  institu¬ 
tion  to  human  welfare  and  happiness;  whereas  the  former, 
somewhat  more  arbitrarily,  refers  the  whole  matter  to  the 
divine  will,  and  leaves  it  there,  without  explanation  or 
reason. 

The  argument  of  Paley  is  summed  up,  by  himself,  in 
the  following  propositions :  “  It  is  the  will  of  God  that 

20 


230 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


the  happiness  of  human  life  be  promoted.”  “  Civil  society 
conduces  to  that  end.”  “  Civil  societies  cannot  be  up- 
holden,  unless  in  each  the  interest  of  the  whole  society 
be  binding  upon  every  part  and  member  of  it.”  Hence 
the  conclusion,  “  that  so  long  as  the  interest  of  the  whole 
society  requires  it,  —  that  is,  so  long  as  the  established  gov¬ 
ernment  cannot  be  resisted  or  changed  without  public  in¬ 
convenience, —  it  is  the  will  of  God  (which  will  universally 
determines  our  duty)  that  the  established  government  be 
obeyed,  and  no  longer.”  The  argument  is,  not  that  gov¬ 
ernment  is  expedient,  and  therefore  we  must  obey;  but 
that  it  is  expedient,  and  therefore  it  is  the  will  of  God ; 
and  because  it  is  his  will,  therefore  we  must  obey. 

Theory  of  Social  Nature .  —  Dissatisfied  with  this  man* 
ner  of  explaining  the  subject,  others  have  taken  a  differ¬ 
ent  view  of  the  matter,  and  have  sought  the  foundation 
of  government  in  the  moral  and  social  nature  of  man. 
It  is  no  longer,  according  to  this  view,  the  arbitrary  and 
sovereign  will  of  God,  nor  yet  that  will  as  governed  by  a 
regard  to  expediency,  but  rather  the  nature  and  con¬ 
stitution  of  man,  that  is  the  basis  on  which  civil  govern¬ 
ment  reposes.  That  nature  fits  him  for,  and  leads  him 
to  adopt  such  an  arrangement.  It  is  his  own  institution, 
his  own  choice,  his  instinctive,  natural  preference.  He 
frames  laws,  and  appoints  rulers,  and  submits  himself  to 
the  control  of  those  laws  and  those  magistrates,  on  the 
same  principle  that  the  bee  and  other  insects  observe  a 
certain  order  in  the  arrangement  of  their  social  affairs, 
and  maintain  a  certain  government,  following  the  direc¬ 
tion  of  their  leader,  because  such  is  their  nature .  In  like 
manner,  the  nature  and  constitution  of  man  fit  him  to  be 
a  member  of  society  and  of  the  state,  even  as  they  fit 
him  to  be  a  member  of  the  family.  He  adopts  this 
method,  and  continues  it,  not  because  he  finds  these  in- 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


231 


stitutions  ready  made,  and  imposed  on  him  by  the  will 
of  the  Creator,  arbitrary  or  otherwise,  without  choice  of 
his  own,  but  because  he  finds  them  exactly  suited  to  his 
nature  and- wants.  This  theory  was  held  by  many  of  the 
ancient  philosophers.  It  was  the  view  maintained  by 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  among  the  Greeks.  Aristotle  calls 
man  7to\ltlkov  Ztoov  —  a  political  animal. 

Theory  of  Social  Compact .  —  There  is  still  another 
theory  of  government,  differing  in  some  important  re¬ 
spects  from  either  of  those  already  mentioned,  —  a  view 
advocated  by  many  distinguished  .writers,  and,  indeed, 
the  prevalent  one  of  modern  times ;  I  refer  to  the  theory 
of  social  compact ,  as  it  is  called.  This  view  —  advanced 
by  Hobbes,  adopted  by  several  subsequent  philosophers 
of  note  in  England,  and  on  the  continent,  by  Shaftesbury, 
and  essentially  by  Locke  and  his  disciples  —  has  come  to 
be,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  prevalent  view,  both  in  England 
and  our  own  country,  and  has  been  widely  adopted  by 
jurists  and  members  of  the  legal  profession,  as  the  prin 
ciple  on  which  civil  government  is  supposed  to  rest.  Ac 
cording  to  this  theory,  civil  government  is  of  the  nature 
of  a  contract  between  man  and  man,  in  which  each  binds 
himself  to  fulfill  certain  conditions,  and  abide  by  certain 
rules,  mutually  agreed  upon ;  which  rules  and  conditions 
are  binding  so  long  as  the  contract  stands.  To  these  con¬ 
ditions  it  is  the  duty  of  every  member  of  society  to  con¬ 
form,  for  the  same  reason  that  it  is  his  duty  to  abide  by 
any  other  obligation  or  contract,  or  to  keep  any  other 
engagement. 

Those  who  enter  into  this  arrangement  —  and  every 
one  who  lives  in  society,  and  enjoys  its  advantages,  vir¬ 
tually  and  tacitly  gives  his  consent  and  adherence  to  the 
arrangement  —  mutually  agree  to  relinquish  each  certain 


282 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


individual  and  natural  rights  into  the  keeping  of  the  whole, 
.  and  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole  ;  in  return  for  which,  they 
are  to  receive  certain  privileges,  and  be  guarded  and  pro> 
tected  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  all  their  rights,  personal  and 
civil.  It  is  for  the  advantage  of  each  to  abide  by  these 
rules,  and  that  others  should  do  the  same ;  hence  the  insti¬ 
tution  exists,  and  is  continued  from  asre  to  a<xe. 

J  o  o 

Objections  to  this  Theory.  —  The  view  now'  proposed 
is  by  no  means  free  from  objections.  If  civil  government 
rests  upon  a  compact,  —  a  mutual  agreement,  or  engage¬ 
ment,  formed  among  men,  —  then  when,  and  where,  and 
by  whom,  wras  this  agreement  made  ?  Where  are  the 
records,  and  what  the  history  of  the  transaction  ?  “No 
social  compact  similar  to  what  is  here  described,”  says 
Paley,  “was  ever  made  or  entered  into  in  reality;  no 
such  original  convention  of  the  people  was  ever  actually 
liolden,  or  in  any  country  could  be  holden,  antecedent 
to  the  history  of  civil  government  in  that  country.  It 
is  to  suppose  it  possible  to  call  savages  out  of  caves  and 
deserts  to  deliberate  and  vote  upon  topics  which  the 
experience  and  studies  and  refinements  of  civil  life  alone 
suggest.  Therefore  no  government  in  the  universe  began 
from  this  original.” 

To  this  it  may  be  replied,  that  the  question  is  not  now 
as  to  the  origin  of  civil  government  —  how  it  began — but 
as  to  its  basis  —  on  what  it  rests  —  what  is  the  ground  of 
the  relation  which  v7e  find  existing  between  the  citizen 
and  the  state,  the  governed  and  the  governors.  It  is  no 
answer  to  the  theory  under  consideration,  to  say  that  no 
government  ever  began  in  that  way.  The  question  is  not 
how  and  when  it  began,  but,  having  a  beginning  and  ex¬ 
istence,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  does  it,  or  does  it  not,  rest 
upon  the  consent  of  the  governed  ;  is  it,  or  is  it  not,  of 
the  nature  of  a  contract  ? 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


238 


Nor  is  it  enough  to  say  that  no  record  of  any  such 
transaction  exists  —  that  no  such  contract  in  reality  was 
ever  made.  Even  if  this  were  true,  —  which  is  by  no  means 
certain,  —  it  might  be  none  the  less  true  that  the  existing 
governments  are  really  of  the  nature  of  a  contract  or 
agreement  among  the  people,  that  they  virtually  rest  upon 
no  other  basis  than  the  consent  of  the  parties  governed, 
even  though  we  cannot  point  to  any  formal  engagement 
to  that  effect,  drawn  up  in  so  many  words,  and  at  such  a 
time  and  place.  Whether  we  can  point  to  such  original 
transaction  or  not,  the  real  nature  of  the  bond  that  holds 
society  together  as  an  organized  body,  may  be  precisely 
that  of  a  mutual  contract ;  and  it  may  be  very  important 
for  us  to  know,  and  to  admit  this  truth.  No  other  form 
of  expression  may  so  well  and  truly  indicate  the  precise 
relations  which  exist  between  the  different  members  of 
the  body  politic,  and  the  reciprocal  rights  and  duties  of 
each,  as  that  now  in  question.  _ 

Further  Reply .  —  It  is  by  no  means  to  be  conceded, 
however,  that  there  is  not  in  existence,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
any  such  contract  or  mutual  agreement  as  we  are  now 
speaking  of.  It  is  not  a  mere  figment  of  the  imagination, 
but  a  historic  reality.,.  There  are,  at  least  in  every  civil¬ 
ized  nation,  certain  fundamental  principles  of  law,  and 
of  civil  polity,  which,  whether  written  or  unwritten,  are 
acknowledged,  and  acted  upon,  as  the  basis  of  all  civil 
administration  of  affairs.  These,  modified  from  time  to 
time,  and  gathered  at  last  into  complete  form,  compose 
the  constitution  of  the  country,  or  the  state.  This  con¬ 
stitution  is  an  existing  historic  fact,  and  the  fundamental 
principles  which  compose  it  existed  in  the  public  mind, 
and  were  acknowledged  as  such,  long  before  they  were 
collected  into  one  body,  reduced  to  form,  and  adopted  as 

20* 


234 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


a  constitution.  These  principles  and  maxims,  written  or 
unwritten,  are  the  terms  of  the  social  compact ;  and  when, 
in  the  process  of  time,  out  of  these  principles,  the  consti¬ 
tution,  as  such,  takes  its  distinct,  manifest  shape  and  form, 
that  is  the  written,  formal  contract,  by  which  all  par¬ 
ties  in  the  state  agree  to  abide.  As  such  it  is  regarded 
and  treated  by  business-men,  jurists,  statesmen,  lawyers  — 
all,  in  fact,  who  have  to  do  with  affairs  of  state,  whether 
in  theory  or  practice. 

The  constitutions  of  the  several  states  of  this  republic 
are  such  compacts ;  they  recognize  themselves*  as  such, 
and  contain  in  themselves  the  articles  of  compact.  Thus 
the  constitution  of  Massachusetts  :  “  The  body  politic  is 

formed  by  a  voluntary  association  of  individuals.  It  is  a 
Social  Compact ,  by  which  the  whole  people  covenants 
with  each  citizen,  and  each  citizen  with  the  whole  peo¬ 
ple,  that  all  shall  be  governed  by  certain  laws  for  the 
common  good.”  The  constitution  of  Connecticut  recog¬ 
nizes  the  same  principle :  “  All  men,  when  they  form  a 

social  compact,  are  equal  in  rights.”  So,  also,  the  opening 
words  of  the  constitution  of  Ne*w  Jersey:  “All  the  con¬ 
stitutional  authority  ever  possessed  by  the  kings  of  Great 
Britain  over  their  dominions,  was  by  compact  derived 
from  the  people,  and  held  of  then^  for  the  common  in¬ 
terest  of  the  whole  society.”  Nor  is  this  use  of  lan¬ 
guage  unauthorized  ;  for  the  vote  of  the  English  Parlia¬ 
ment  which  deposed  James  the  Second,  charges  him  with 
having  broken  the  original  compact  between  king  and 
people. 

It  is  not  true,  then,  that  no  such  thing  as  a  social  con¬ 
tract  exists  in  reality.  Every  state  constitution,  whether 
more  or  less  complete  and  formal,  is,  in  fact,  such  an  instru¬ 
ment;  all  its  articles  are  articles  of  mutual  agreement;  and 
all  those  fundamental  principles  and  maxims,  of  which  it 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


235 


is  the  collection  and  embodiment,  are,  and  were  before 
they  were  thus  collected,  and  while  as  yet  they  lay  unex¬ 
pressed  in  the  common  mind,  a  virtual  compact,,  having 
for  its  object  the  defining  and  securing  to  every  one  his 
rights. 

Another  Objection . —  It  is  also  objected,  by  Dr.  Pal ey 
and  others,  to  the  theory  now  under  consideration,  that 
it  supposes,  what  in  general  is  not  true,  that  men  have 
actually  given  their  consent  to  the  government  under 
which  they  live ;  whereas,  in  fact,  they  have  had,  for  the 
most  part,  no  opportunity  either  to  give  or  refuse  their 
consent.  The  question  has  never  been  asked  them,  “Are 
you  satisfied  with  this  present  arrangement  of  affairs, 
or  do  you  desire  a  change?”  But  such  consent,  it  is 
argued,  is  always  implied  in  a  voluntary  engagement  or 
contract ;  and  where  it  is  wanting,  the  transaction,  what¬ 
ever  else  it  may  be,  is  no  contract.  To  call  it  so,  is  a 
misnomer  —  an  expression  both  false  and  useless.  Sup¬ 
posing  that  my  ancestors  framed  and  entered  into  such 
an  agreement,  called  the  constitution :  how  does  their 
action  bind  “me?  What  voice  have  I,  what  voice  have 
I  ever  had,  in  the  matter  ?  Or  what  has  any  one  of  the 
fifty  thousand  or  five  hundred  thousand  inhabitants  of 
the  same  city  or  state  with  myself,  to  do  in  the  matter? 
And  what  right  has  any  man,  ancestor  or  not,  to  bind 
me  in  this  way,  without  my  consent  ? 

It  must  be  confessed  there  is  no  little  force  in  this 
objection.  It  must  be  confessed  that  men  find  themselves, 
by  birth,  members  of  whatever  form  of  civil  society  exists 
around  them,  and  that  they  have  usually  very  little  to  do 
with  shaping  and  forming  the  government  under  which 
they  are  to  live.  In  this  respect  the  state  is  clearly  analo¬ 
gous  to  the  family.  It  is  not  for  a  man  to  choose  whether 
he  will  belong  to  this  nation,  or  to  that;  to  this  family, 


236 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


or  to  another,  or  to  none.  These  things  are  decided  for 
him.  He  is  by  birth  a  member  of  the  family,  and  subject 
to  parental  rule.  He  is  also  by  birth  a  member  of  civil 
society,  and  must  take  it  as  he  finds  it ;  at  least,  for  a  con¬ 
siderable  part  of  his  life. 

•  Xor  is  it  any  answer  to  say,  that  such  an  arrangement 
is  for  the  best  good  of  the  subject.  Doubtless  it  is  so. 
The  question  just  now  is,  not  whether  it  is  a  wise  and 
beneficial  arrangement,  but  whether  it  is  binding  ;  and  if 
so,  why,  and  on  what  ground  ?  Suppose  I  do  not  choose 
to  be  trammelled  by  this  arrangement,  which  somebody 
else,  a  few  centuries  ago,  thought  to  be  wise  and  expe¬ 
dient —  what  then?  Suppose,  even,  I  do  not  choose  to 
submit  to  arrangements  which  are  in  reality  for  my  own 
good  ?  What  right  has  one  age  and  generation  to  bind 
another  age,  against  its  will,  even  to  its  own  benefit  ? 

The  true  answer  to  this  reasoning  I  conceive  to  be,  that, 
by  the  very  nature  of  human  society,  the  engagements  of 
one  generation  must  be  held  as  binding  upon  those  that 
come  after,  until  at  least  they  are  directly  rejected  and 
annulled  by  the  latter.  Until  such  act  of  rejection,  con¬ 
sent  may  fairly  be  presumed.  Silence  gives  consent ;  the 
simple  living  under  and  complying  with  the  conditions  of 
such  an  arrangement,  gives  consent.  As  Paley  himself 
says  with  respect  to  the  laws  which  regulate  the  adminis¬ 
tration  of  justice:  “The  law  of  nature,  founded  in  the 
very  constitution  of  human  society,  which  is  formed  to 
endure  through  a  series  of  perishing  generations,  requires 
that  the  just  engagements  a  man  enters  into  should  con¬ 
tinue  in  force  beyond  his  own  life ;  it  follows  that  the 
private  rights  of  persons  frequently  depend  upon  what 
has  been  transacted  in  times  remote  from  the  present, 
by  their  ancestors  or  predecessors,  or  by  those  under 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


237 


whom  they  claim,  or  to  whose  obligations  they  have  suc¬ 
ceeded.” 

Now,  this  is  true;  but,  as  Dr.  Whewell  very  justly  re¬ 
marks,  it  is  no  more  true  of  private  rights,  than  of  any 
other;  no  more  true  of  engagements  which  bind  man  and 
man,  than  of  those  which  bind  man  and  the  state,  since 
public  rights,  as  well  as  private,  and  for  the  same  reason. 
dejDend  often  on  what  was  done  by  those  who  preceded 
us. 

The  True  Explanation .  —  I  am  far  from  maintaining, 
however,  that  the  theory  of  a  social  contract  is  free  from 
objections.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  can  this  be  affirmed 
of  either  of  the  theories  previously  adduced.  Each  of 
them  expresses  an  important  element  of  truth.  Neither 
of  them,  as  it  seems  to  me,  conveys  the  whole  truth. 
Nor  are  these  different  theories  necessarily  exclusive  of 
each  other.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  only  by  combining 
whatever  of  truth  is  contained  in  each,  with  whatever  is 
contained  in  the  others,  that  wTe  reach  the  complete  expla¬ 
nation,  the  true  philosophy,  of  civil  government. 

It  is  doubtless  true,  for  example,  that  existing  constitu¬ 
tions  and  forms  of  government  are  of  the  nature  of  a 
social  contract,  in  which  the  parties  bind  themselves  to 
observe  certain  conditions,  for  the  sake  of  securing  cer¬ 
tain  advantages;  the  parties  being,  severally,  King  and 
People ;  or  King,  Lords,  and  Commons,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  people  on  the  other,  as  in  the  case  of  the  English 
government ;  or,  as  in  our  own  country,  every  man  with 
the  whole  people,  and  the  whole  people  with  every  man. 
Nor  is  this  the  less  a  compact  because  formed  and  entered 
into  by  those  who  preceded  the  present  generation. 

This,  then,  is  the  first  fact  which  meets  us  in  our  inves¬ 
tigation, —  starting  from  the  present  actual  condition  of 


238 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


civil  society,  —  the  first  step  in  the  explanation  of  the 
phenomenon  of  human  government.  But  if  we  were  to 
stop  here,  we  should  leave  much  unexplained.  How 
came  man  to  form  such  compacts  —  everywhere,  in  all 
ages,  and  nations  ?  Is  it  accidental  ?  Is  there  not  rather 
a  foundation  in  his  very  nature  for  just  this  condition  of 
things  ?  Is  he  not,  even,  as  Aristotle  said,  a  political  ani¬ 
mal  ?  Here,  then,  we  must  bring  in  a  second  theory,  and 
place  it  beside,  or  rather  beneath  the  first,  —  civil  govern¬ 
ment  is  founded  in  compact,  but  that  compact  is  founded 
in  the  social  nature  of  man. 

Nor  would  I  stop  here.  How  comes  he  by  this  nature  ? 
Is  it  not  the  gift  of  God  —  an  endowment  conferred  upon 
the  creature  by  the  all-wise  Creator?  Did  not  God,  in 
making  man  as  he  is,  and  conferring  upon  him  this  social 
nature,  intend  that  he  should  be  subject  to  civil  authority? 
Here,  then,  we  bring  in  still  a  third  theory,  —  that  of  the 
divine  will, —  and  place  it  at  the  foundation  of  the  whole. 
Civil  government  is  founded  in  compact ;  but  that  com¬ 
pact,  again,  depends  on  the  nature  of  man ;  and  this,  in 
turn,  rests  ultimately  on  the  will  of  God. 

Of  Divine  Authority  in  what  Sense .  —  According  to 
the  view  now  presented,  civil  government  is  of  divine 
authority  in  this  sense,  and  in  this  sense  only,  —  that  by 
the  constitution  of  things,  and  of  human  nature,  God  has 
settled  it  that  civil  government,  of  some  sort,  there  shall 
be  ;  but  of  what  sort  it  shall  be,  he  has  left  it  for  men 
themselves  to  decide ;  and  this  they  do  decide,  each  com¬ 
munity  or  people  for  itself,  by  some  sort  of  social  compact 
or  agreement.  It  is  not  in  the  nature  of  things  for  any 
community  of  human  beings  to  consent  to  live  together 
without  any  form  of  government ;  and,  in  point  of  fact, 
the  rudest  and  wildest  community  on  earth  will  be  found 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


239 


to  have  provided  itself  with  some  kind,  and  some  degree 
of  civil  government. 

§  HI.  —  Historic  Sketch. — Different  Opinions  as  to  the 

Nature  of  Civil  Government. 

In  the  preceding  sections  the  nature  and  foundation  of 
civil  government  have  been  discussed  as  regards  their 
general  principles.  It  may  serve  to  fix  these  principles 
more  definitely  in  our  minds,  and  perhaps  contribute  to 
the  clearer  apprehension  of  them,  if  we  trace,  in  its  general 
outlines,  the  history  of  the  topic  now  under  consideration, 
as  regards  the  opinions  which  have  been  held  by  writers  of 
distinction  respecting  the  nature  of  civil  government. 

Opinions  of  the  Ancients .  —  The  idea  of  the  state  as  a 
natural  and  a  necessary  institution,  having  its  foundation  in 
the  very  nature  and  constitution  of  man,  was  familiar  to 
the  ancients.  Thus  Aristotle :  “  It  is  manifest  that  the 
state  is  one  of  the  things  which  exist  by  nature ;  and  that 
man  is  by  nature  a  political  animal.  A  man  belonging  to 
no  state  is  less  than  man,  or  more.” 

This  view,  however,  by  no  means  prevented  them  from 
regarding  civil  government,  at  the  same  time,  as  of  divine 
origin,  founded  in  the  will  of  Deity.  “All  laws,”  says 
Plato ,  w  came  from  God.  No  mortal  man  was  the  founder 
of  laws.”  Aristotle  coincides  with  this  view.  “  Law,” 
says  Cicero ,  “is  nothing  else  but  right  reason,  derived  from 
the  divinity,  and  government  an  emanation  of  the  divine 
mind.”  The  classical  scholar  need  not  be  reminded  that 
the  writings  of  the  ancient  masters  are  pervaded  with  this 
sentiment. 

Nor,  again,  does  this  divine  origin  of  government  pre¬ 
clude,  in  their  opinion,  the  consent  of  the  governed ,  as  iu 


240 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


t 


reality  the  proximate  source  of  power.  Locke  is  not,  as 
often  stated,  the  author  of  this  theory  of  government ;  on 
the  contrary,  it  is  a  principle  recognized  in  substance  by 
the  most  distinguished  political  philosophers  of  the  ancient 
world ;  and  that  in  perfect  consistency  with  their  view  of 
the  divine  origin  of  government.  The  idea  of  a  social 
compact  is  no  novelty  in  the  world. 

Plato  makes-  “  a  tacit  agreement  between  each  member, 
and  the  whole  community,”  to  be  the  foundation  of  the 
state,  and  affirms  that  they  who  violate  the  laws,  violate 
the  agreement.  “  The  civil  law,”  says  Aristotle ,  “  is  that 
which  takes  place  amongst  a  number  of  free  persons,  who 
are  members  of  the  same  community,  in  which  they  live  on 
a  footing  of  equality.” 

u  The  state,”  says  Cicero ,  “is  not  every  assemblage  of 
men  anyhow  gathered,  but  a  community  united  together 
by  common  laws,  common  interest,  and  a  common  con¬ 
sent.”  In  like  manner,  Livy  affirms  that  the  force  of  the 
supreme  command  is  based  on  the  consent  of  those  who 
obey. 

Of  the  Moderns .  —  Among  the  moderns,  the  doctrine 
of  the  divine  origin  of  government  has  been  very  generally 
held  by  English  divines  and  statesmen.  Subjection  to  the 
civil  power,  in  the  language  of  Bishop  Horsley ,  is  “  a  con¬ 
scientious  submission  to  the  will  of  God.”  “  Civil  govern¬ 
ment,”  says  Bishop  Butler ,  “is  that  part  of  God’s  govern¬ 
ment  over  the  world  which  he  exercises  bv  the  instrumen- 

«/ 

tality  of  men.  Considering  that  all  power  is  of  God,  all 
authority  is  properly  of  divine  appointment.”  The  view 
of  Dr.  Paley  has  already  been  stated.  He  bases  the  au¬ 
thority  of  government  on  the  will  of  God  as  collected  from 
expediency.  The  following  is  the  language  of  Edmund 
Burke:  “All  dominion  over  man  is  the  effect  of  the  divine 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


241 


disposition.  It  is  bound  by  the  eternal  laws  of  him  that 
gave  it,  with  which  no  human  authority  can  dispense. 
*  *  *  \ye  are  ap  born  in  subjection — all  born  equally, 

high  and  low,  governors  and  governed,  in  subjection  to  one 
great,  immutable,  preexistent  law,  prior  to  all  our  devices, 
and  all  our  contrivances,  paramount  to  all  our  ideas,  and 
all  our  sensations,  antecedent  to  our  very  existence, —  by 
which  we  are  knit  and  connected  in  the  eternal  frame  of 
the  universe,  and  out  of  which  we  cannot  stir.  This  great 
law  does  not  arise  out  of  our  conventions,  or  compacts ; 
on  the  contrary,  it  gives  to  our  compacts  and  conventions 
all  the  force  and  sanction  they  can  have.” 

Coincident  with  the  views  now  expressed  is  that  of  the 
great  theologian  Calvin :  “  The  reason  why  we  should  be 
subject  to  magistrates,  is,  because  they  are  appointed  by 
the  ordinance  of  God.  Since  it  has  pleased  God  so  to  ad¬ 
minister  the  government  of  this  world,  he  who  resists  their 
power,  strives  against  th'e  divine  ordinance,  and  so  fights 
against  God.  Because,  to  disregard  his  providence  who  is 
the  author  of  civil  government,  is  to  go  to  war  with  him.” 
These  words  are  a  comment  upon  a  passage  in  the  thir¬ 
teenth  chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the  Romans,  in  which  the 
divine  authority  of  civil  government  is  very  clearly  set 
forth,  and  which  may  be  regarded  as  not  merely  the  Pau¬ 
line,  but  the  general  Scripture  doctrine  of  human  govern¬ 
ment. 

Not  Inconsistent  with  Social  Compact .  —  But,  while 
maintaining  the  views  now  stated  respecting  human  gov¬ 
ernment,  as  founded  in  the  will  of  God,  and  ultimately 
deriving  its  authority  from  that  high  source,  the  writers 
whom  I  have  quoted  by  no  means  maintain  that  the  vari¬ 
ous  forms  which  human  governments  practically  assume 
are  <ilso  and  equally  of  divine  authority.  On  the  contrary, 

21 


242 


NATURE  AND  FOUNDATION 


they  recognize  the  form  as  a  matter  of  human  invention 
and  choice;  and  so,  and  that  not  inconsistently,  they  recog¬ 
nize,  in  many  cases,  the  principle  of  the  social  compact. 
So,  also,  as  we  have  seen,  did  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  Cicero, 
while,  in  like  manner,  tracing  back  all  law  to  a  divine  origi¬ 
nal,  nevertheless  admit  the  consent  of  the  governed  as 
the  proximate  source  of  authority  in  the  state.  Thus 
Bishop  Ilorsley ,  whom  I  have  already  quoted,  while  main¬ 
taining  “  that  all  government  is  in  such  sort  of  divine 
institution,  that,  be  the  form  of  any  particular  government 
what  it  may,  the  submission  of  the  individual  is  a  principal 
branch  of  that  religious  duty  which  each  man  owes  to 
God,”  is  careful  to  admit  “  that  all  particular  forms  of 
government  which  now  exist  are  the  work  of  human 
policy,  under  the  control  of  God’s  overruling  providence.” 
They  have  not  thought  it,  therefore,  at  all  inconsistent  with 
their  theory  of  the  divine  authority  of  civil  government,  to 
inquire  into  the  origin  and  sources  of  political  power,  as  a 
thing  of  human  contrivance  and  social  compact.  For,  as 
has  been  well  stated  by  Puffendorf  in  his  Lave  of  Nature 
and  Nations ,  “he  who  affirms  sovereignty  to  result  imme¬ 
diately  from  compact,  doth  not  in  the  least  detract  from 
the  sacred  character  of  civil  government,  or  maintain  that 
princes  bear  rule  by  human  right  only,  not  by  divine.” 

The  doctrine  of  Social  Compact  has  been  held,  in  fact,  by 
almost  all  the  chief  writers  on  Moral  and  Political  Philoso¬ 
phy  in  modern  times.  Puffendorf,  Grotius,  Montesquieu, 
Blackstone,  Milton,  Bacon,  Sidney,  Locke,  Barbeyrac,  Bur- 
lamaqui,  John  Q.  Adams,  Jefferson,  are  among  the  more 
prominent  names  which  occur  in  this  connection.  Of  these, 
it  will  be  sufficient  to  quote  as  authority  Grotius  and  Black- 
stone.  The  former  says:  “Men,  not  influenced  by  the 
express  command  of  God,  but  of  their  own  accord,  having 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


243 


experienced  the  weak  defence  of  separated  families  against 
the  assaults  of  violence,  united  themselves  in  civil  society, 
the  effect  of  which  was  civil  power,  styled  on  this  account, 
by  St.  Peter,  the  ordinance  of  man.”  Blackstone  holds 
the  following  language  respecting  “the  original  contract  of 
society.”  “  This  contract,  though  perhaps  in  no  instance 
has  it  ever  been  formally  expressed  at  the  first  institution 
of  a  state,  yet  in  nature  and  reason  must  be  always  under¬ 
stood  and  implied,  in  the  very  act  of  associating  together ; 
namely,  that  the  whole  should  protect  all  its  parts,  and  that 
every  part  should  pay  obedience  to  the  will  of  the  whole ; 
or,  in  other  words,  that  the  community  should  guard  the 
rights  of  each  individual  member,  and  that,  in  return  for 
this  protection,  each  individual  should  submit  to  the  laws 
of  the  community.”  The  same  authority,  than  which  none 
is  higher,  pronounces  the  coronation  oath  taken  by  the 
monarchs  of  England  on  ascending  the  throne,  to  be,  with¬ 
out  dispute,  an  express  and  fundamental  contract.  This 
has  always  been  the  doctrine  of  the  English  Whigs.  They 
acted  on  it  when  they  brought  Charles  I.  to  the  bar,  and 
deposed  James  II.  As  already  stated,  the  constitutions  of 
these  United  States  are  based  on  the  same  great  principle 
—  the  Social  Compact . 


CHAPTER  II. 

VARIOUS  FORMS  OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


Tite  origin  and  object  of  civil  government,  and  also  the 
foundation  on  which  it  rests,  have  occupied  our  attention 
in  the  preceding  chapter.  A  glance  at  the  various  forms 


244 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


which  government  assumes  in  its  actual  working,  and  at 
the  distribution  of  its  several  poicers ,  will  enable  us  the 
better  to  comprehend  the  practical  duties,  growing  out  of 
these  several  relations,  as  they  may  come  up  for  considera¬ 
tion  in  the  subsequent  chapters. 

§  I.  —  Analysis  of  the  Several  Functions  and  Forms 

of  Government. 

It  has  been  already  observed,  that  every  state  is  sover¬ 
eign  and  independent  —  the  power  of  directing  its  own 
affairs  lying  wholly  in  its  own  hands.  The  state,  in  its 
aggregate  capacity,  however,  cannot  administer  govern¬ 
ment,  nor  enact  laws,  nor  execute  justice.  The  whole 
mass  of  the  people  cannot  leave  their  places  of  business, 
assemble  in  one  body,  and  so  devote  their  personal  atten¬ 
tion  to  the  affairs  of  government,  the  devising  of  suit¬ 
able  laws  and  regulations,  or  the  trial  and  punishment 
of  offenders.  Evidently,  this  is  out  of  the  question.  Hence 
the  necessity  for  delegated  authority.  The  state,  which  is 
the  real  sovereign,  —  that  is,  the  people,  —  must  commit 
its  power,  for  the  time,  into  the  hands  of  those  duly  ap¬ 
pointed  and  authorized  to  act  for  it,  and  whose  acts,  when 
thus  commissioned,  shall  be  in  reality  the  action  of  the 
state.  Now,  as  these  officers,  charged  with  the  adminis¬ 
tration  of  government,  vary  as  to  number,  and  mode  of 
appointment,  and  the  nature  and  degree  of  the  power 
committed  to  them,  in  this  manner  there  arise  so  many 
different  forms  of  government,  in  different  countries,  and 
different  periods  of  history,  —  as  monarchy,  absolute  or  lim¬ 
ited  ;  aristocracy ;  republicanism,  or  unlimited  democracy. 

General  Division  of  Functions .  —  Whatever  may  be 
the  particular  form  which  the  government  of  a  country 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


245 


assumes,  there  is  usually  a  general  division  of  the  several 
powers  and  functions  of  the  government  into  distinct 
departments,  which  are  much  the  same  under  all  varieties 
of  state  organization,  and  in  all  civilized  countries.  It  is 
found  desirable,  for  obvious  reasons,  to  distribute  the  pow¬ 
ers  of  government  into  three  grand  departments,  —  the 
Legislative,  the  Judicial,  and  the  Executive,  —  and  to  keep 
these  entirely  distinct  from  each  other. 

The  wisdom  of  such  an  arrangement  will  appear  on  a 
moment’s  reflection.  Were  the  business  of  enacting  and 
of  executing  the  laws  committed  to  the  same  hands,  such 
is  the  imperfection  of  human  nature,  that  serious  diflicul- 
ties  would  be  likely  to  arise.  There  would  be  too  much 
room  for  personal  bias  and  prejudice.  The  executive  would 
enact  such  laws  as  suited  his  own  notions  and  plans  of 
government.  The  legislator  would  execute  the  laws  ac¬ 
cording  to  his  own  ideas  of  the  importance  of  this  or  that 
enactment,  which  he  might  have  favored  or  opposed,  while 
it  was  under  discussion,  prior  to  its  becoming  a  law.  The 
judge  could  not,  with  impartiality,  try  offences  against  laws 
which  he  had  himself  made,  and  was  himself  to  execute. 
It  is  never  safe  to  entrust  these  several  powers  to  the  same 
hands.  Hence,  with  most  governments,  not  altogether 
despotic,  the  power  of  legislating,  or  making  the  laws, 
is  entrusted  to  one  body;  that  of  judging  them,  or  trying 
offences  under  them,  to  another;  and  that  of  executing 
the  decisions  thus  made,  to  still  another;  and  these  are 
called  the  Legislative ,  the  Judicial ,  and  the  Executive 
departments  of  government. 

Upon  these,  again,  certain  checks  are  devised,  for  the 
prevention  of  abuse  of  power.  The  legislative  body  is 
usually  composed  of  two  parts,  houses,  or  orders,  differ¬ 
ently  constituted,  whose  concurrent  action  is  necessary  to 

21* 


246 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


the  passage  of  any  measure.  Further,  to  guard  against 
possible  abuse  of  power,  even  under  this  arrangement, 
there  is  also  the  right  of  veto,  —  lodged  usually  with  the 
executive,  —  by  which  it  is  in  his  power  to  check  all  rash 
and  unwise  legislation.  In  the  Judiciary  there  is  an  effec¬ 
tual  guarantee  against  intentional  injustice,  in  the  power 
of  appeal  from  court  to  court,  so  that  a  case  reaches  its 
final  decision  only  after  having  passed  through  successive 
trials,  at  different  tribunals. 

Different  Forms  of  Government .  —  Besides  the  general 
divisions  now  indicated,  and  which  are  more  or  less  com¬ 
mon  to  all  governments,  not  purely  despotic  in  their  na¬ 
ture,  there  are  certain  leading  distinctions  to  be  observed 
in  respect  to  the  various  forms  which  the  government  may 
happen  to  assume.  In  different  states,  and  at  different 
periods  of  time,  these  forms  vary  widely  and  radically. 
The  form  of  a  government  is  determined  by  the  character 
of  its  legislature  or  law-making  power.  As  is  that,  so  is 
the  government.  There  are  three  principal  forms  which 
government  assumes;  or,  more  strictly,  so  many  elements  of 
power,  which,  either  singly  or  in  various  combinations, 
enter  into  the  structure,  and  determine  the  form,  of  all 
governments.  These  are  the  monarchic,  or  despotic,  the 
aristocratic,  and  the  democratic.  According  as*  one  or 
another  of  these  elements  prevails,  we  have  for  a  govern¬ 
ment,  monarchy  absolute,  or  monarchy  limited,  aristocracy, 
the  representative  republic,  or  the  complete  democracy. 
In  the  first,  or  absolute  monarchy ,  the  power  is  lodged  in 
the  hands  of  one.  Ilis  will  is  law.  The  monarch  is  at 
once  executive,  and  law-maker,  and,  if  he  pleases,  judge 
also;  that  is,  those  who  may  be  nominally  entrusted  with 
the  functions  of  legislative  and  judiciary  power,  are  so  at 
his  pleasure,  by  his  appointment,  and,  therefore,  under 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


247 


•  his  complete  control. .  To  his  power  there  are  no  constitu¬ 
tional  checks  or  restraints.  In  the  limited  monarchy  this 
supreme  power  of  the  king,  or  emperor,  is  modified,  and  held 
in  check  by  the  other  departments  of  government,  and  by 
constitutional  restraints,  which  affix  certain  limits,  beyond 
which  he  may  not  go.  The  legislative,  the  judiciary,  and 
the  executive  functions  are  kept  distinct,  and  the  preroga- 
tives  and  powers  of  each  are  carefully  guarded.  Still,  the 
monarchical  element,  or  the  idea  of  power  in  the  hands  of 
one,  though  in  a  modified  form,  prevails,  and  gives  shape 
to  the  government. 

In  the  aristocracy ,  we  have  a  select  body,  sharing  among 
themselves  the  powers  and  prerogatives  of  the  govern¬ 
ment,  or  exercising  the  same  in  their  collective  capacity; 
filling  their  own  vacancies,  or  coming  into  their  places  by 
inheritance,  or  by  acquisition  of  certain  titles,  rank,  or  pos¬ 
sessions.  The  law-power  is  lodged  no  longer  now  in  the 
hands  of  one,  but  of  the  few,  —  descended  from  a  line  of 
noble  ancestors,  distinguished  for  their  valor,  their  high 
birth,  or  their  achievements  in  history,  or  themselves  the 
architects,  it  may  be,  of  their  own  fortunes,  —  taking  rank, 
not  by  inheritance,  but  by  the  splendor  of  their  own  tal¬ 
ents,  their  own  fortunes,  or  their  own  services.  These  few 
stand  forth  from  among  the  common  multitude,  and  rule 
by  virtue  of  conceded  superiority. 

In  the  pure  democracy  we  have  the  simple  reverse  of 
pure  monarchy,  —  power  now  in  the  hands  of  the  many; 
not  ultimately ,  merely  —  for  ultimately  it  is  always  with  the 
many,  under  whatever  form  it  may  present  itself  to  the 
view  —  but  directly  and  immediately ;  not  in  reality 
merely,  but  in  form .  The  people  at  large  make  laws  for 
themselves  in  assemblies  of  the  whole,  or  by  divisions  and 
tribes.  The  will  of  the  people  is  law,  with  no  intervening 


248 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


instrumentality  or  agency  to  give  it  ^expression  and  valid¬ 
ity.  Or  this  democratic  element,  like  the  monarchic,  may 
present  itself  in  a  modified  form, — the  people,  instead  of 
acting  every  man  in  person,  in  the  assembly  of  the  whole, 
delegating  their  power  to  certain  persons  authorized  to 
act  for  them,  or  represent  them ;  the  real  power  still  lying 
in  the  hands  of  the  many,  nevertheless,  who  choose  only 
such  persons  as  they  please  to  represent  them,  and  who 
have  in  some  form  the  power  of  approving  or  revoking  the 
decisions  of  the  same. 

We  have,  then,  as  distinct  elements  of  government  — 
monarchy,  absolute  or  limited  ;  aristocracy;  and  democracy, 
pure  or  representative.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  very  few 
governments  present  either  of  these  forms,  however,  in  a 
simple  or  pure  state,  but  more  or  less  intermingled  and 
combined  with  each  other.  Thus,  we  may  have  a  mon¬ 
archy,  so  far  as  regards  the  name  and  nature  of  the  chief 
magistracy,  along  with  an  aristocracy  or  body  of  nobility, 
enjoying  certain  powers  and  privileges ;  and  back  of  these, 
again,  a  representative  body,  acting  for  the  people,  and,  to 
some  extent,  holding  in  check  both  nobles  and  monarch. 
Such  is  the  actual  constitution  of  the  English  government. 
The  Commons  have  the  powTer  of  voting  or  refusing  all 
taxes  and  supplies,  and  also,  they  have  the  control  of  the 
army,  —  thus  holding  in  their  hand  both  the  purse  and  the 
sword  of  government. 

Our  own  constitution,  also,  while  it  dispenses  with  mon¬ 
arch  and  nobles,  is  by  no  means  a  simple  and  pure  democ¬ 
racy,  like  the  Athenian  of  old.  The  many  are  represented 
in  legislative  assembly.  Over  against  this  popular  branch 
is  placed  the  conservative  element  —  a  Senate  —  answer¬ 
ing  in  idea,  though  not  in  form,  to  the  Upper  House  of 
English  Parliament ;  while  in  the  chief  executive,  we  have 
that  concentration  of  authority  in  the  person  of  one,  which, 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


249 


under  a  widely  different  form,  is  still,  so  far  as  it  enters  at 
all  into  the  political  fabric,  the  essential  element  of  des¬ 
potic  rather  than  democratic  rule. 

These  different  forms  of  government,  now  described, 
have  each  their  separate  and  special  advantages,  and,  also, 
disadvantages.  In  proportion  as  the  monarchic  element 
prevails,  government  becomes  efficient,  strong,  united  in 
council,  prompt  and  decisive  in  action.  The  tendency  is 
to  greater  and  greater  assumption  of  power  by  the  one,  to 
the  injury  of  freedom,  and  the  rights  of  the  many.  In 
proportion  as  democracy  prevails,  the  popular  will  and 
rights  are  maintained ;  but  often  at  the  expense  of  wisdom 
in  council,  and  of  unity  and  efficiency  in  action. 

The  constitution  of  the  English  government,  and,  in  a 
still  higher  degree,  that  of  these  United  States,  seem  to 
me  to  present  a  combination  of  these  several  elements, 
wisely  adapted  to  secure  the  most  desirable  results,  with, 
perhaps,  the  fewest  disadvantages. 

§  II.  —  Historical  Sketch  of  Forms  of  Government. 

The  various  possible  forms  of  government,  and  the 
several  elements  which  enter  more  or  less  fully  into  the 
structure  and  composition  of  all  forms,  have  been  pointed 
out  in  the  preceding  section.  Casting  our  eye  now  on 
the  page  of  history,  we  shall  find  the  various  governments 
of  the  ancient  and  the  modern  time  marked  and  char¬ 
acterized  by  the  prevalence,  some  cf  one,  some  of  another 
of  these  several  elements,  —  in  some  the  monarchical , 
in  others  the  aristocratic ,  in  others  still,  the  democratic 
element  prevailing,  and  giving  character  to  the  form  of 
government.  It  may  serve  to  fix  in  our  minds  the  prin¬ 
ciples  already  indicated,  if  we  take  a  rapid  glance  at  the 


250 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


civil  institutions  of  some  of  the  nations  prominent  in 
history. 


The  Hebrew  State.  —  The  civil  polity  of  this  re¬ 
markable  people  was  primarily  a  Theocracy . %  God  was 
the  supreme  ruler  and  civil  head  of  the  state  ;  in  him 
was  vested  the  law-making  power — the  sovereignty.  Such 
a  constitution  of  the  state  was  no  novelty,  indeed,  in  the 
ancient  world ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  was  quite  in  ac¬ 
cordance  with  the  spirit  of  those  earlier  times.  All  the 
ancient  law-givers  —  from  Menes  in  Egypt,  and  Cadmus 
in  Thebes,  to  Lycurgus  in  Sparta,  and  Numa  in  Rome  — 
called  in  the  aid  of  religion  to  strengthen  the  foundations 
of  the  civil  power.  With  them,  however,  the  religious 
sentiment  was  merely  a  means  to  an  end :  in  the  Hebrew 
polity,  it  was  itself  a  chief  end  of  the  civil  constitution. 
The  recognition  and  adoration  of  one  God,  the  supreme 
and  rightful  Ruler  of  the  universe,  was  a  fundamental  law 
of  the  Hebrew  state,  a  first  principle  of  the  civil  polity. 
Idolatry  was  a  crime  against  the  state,  punishable  as  such  ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  violation  of  the  laws  of  the 
state  was  regarded  as  sin  against  God. 

o  o 

Democratic  Element.  —  The  Hebrew  polity  was  not, 
however,  a  pure  Theocracy.  The  sovereignty  vested  in 
Jehovah  was  not  to  the  exclusion  of  the  civil  magistrate; 

it  was  an  element  of  the  government,  rather  than  the 

• 

government  itself.  Another  and  equally  characteristic 
element  of  that  government  was  democracy ,  —  a  magis¬ 
tracy  elected  by  the  people,  and  a  constitution  adopted 
by  the  people.  Jehovah  himself  would  not  become  the 
sovereign  and  civil  head  of  the  state,  until  he  had  been 
formally  and  solemnly  chosen  as  such  by  the  suffrages  of 
the  assembly.  Summoned,  at  the  call  of  the  trumpet,  to 
the  heights  of  Sinai,  Moses  receives  commission  to  pro- 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


251 


pose  to  the  people  Jehovah  as  the  national  sovereign. 
The  proposition  is  considered  and  accepted,  in  due  form, 
by  the  people  yielding  their  free  and  solemn  assent.  And 
all  the  people  answered  together:  “All  that  the  Lord  hath 
spoken  we  will  do.”  A  solemn  covenant  is  then  entered 
into,  —  Jehovah,  on  his  part,  promising  to  be  the  ruler  and 
protector  of  the  nation  ;  the  people,  on  their  part,  promis¬ 
ing  faithful  allegiance.  Here,  then,  in  due  manner  and 
form,  is  one  instance,  at  least,  of  that  which  certain  writers 
can  find  no  trace  of  in  history,  viz.,  a  social  compact.  It 
is  a  clear  and  manifest  example  of  the  manner  in  which, 
substantially,  all  free  governments  take  their  rise.  As 
such  it  is  recognized  by  the  highest  authorities,  —  Jahn, 
Lowman,  Michaelis,  Graves,  Bossuet. 

Further  Democratic  Element.  —  In  like  manner,  the 
fundamental  laws  of  the  state  were  adopted  by  the  people 
in  assemblv  of  the  whole.  The  Hebrew  constitution  was 
submitted  to  and  adopted  by  the  Hebrew  people,  as  really 
and  formally  as  the  constitution  of  the  United  States  was 
submitted  to  and  adopted  by  the  several  states  of  the 
Union.  At  the  death  of  Moses,  it  seems  to  have  been 
again  subjected  to  popular  suffrage;  and  once  in  every 
seven  years  thereafter,  by  statute  law,  it  was,  in  like 
manner,  to  be  ratified  in  assembly  of  the  whole. 

Such  a  government  is,  in  the  true  sense,  a  government 
by  the  people,  a  democracy,  —  the  constitution,  the  laws, 
the  chief  ruler,  being  subject  to  the  popular  will. 

Not  only  the  laws,  and  the  chief  ruler,  were  chosen  by 
the  people,  but  also  the  judges,  and  the  chiefs,  or  princes 
of  the  several  tribes.  Each  tribe  seems  to  have  been 
under  the  immediate  direction  of  its  prince,  and  to  have 
been  subdivided  into  several  classes,  or  groups  of  families, 
each  having  its  own  chief  or  elder.  These  princes  of 
tribes,  together  with  the  chiefs,  or  heads  of  families,  were, 


252 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


in  reality,  representatives  of  the  people,  and  constituted 
what  may  be  called  the  popular  branch  of  the  govern¬ 
ment.  Each  tribe  constituted,  in  fact,  a  separate  state,  in 
many  respects  independent,  under  its  own  prince  and 
chiefs  of  families.  It  could  even  declare  war,  and  make 
peace,  for  itself. 

Equality  of  Classes  and  of  Landed  Property .  —  These 
several  features  constitute  a  strongly  democratic  cast  of 
government,  more  nearly  approaching  a  purely  republican 
state  than  any  other,  perhaps,  on  record,  except  our  own. 
To  these  characteristics  should  be  added,  also,  the  social 
equality  of  the  people,  —  every  person,  whatever  his  birth, 
rank,  wealth,  or  profession,  being  on  a  footing  of  entire 
equality,  both  socially  and  politically,  with  every  other 
person  in  the  state ;  —  and  also  the  equal  distribution  of 
landed  property  among  the  people;  thus  securing  the 
political  independence  of  the  masses,  promoting  industry 
and  a  fondness  for  agricultural  pursuits,  giving  dignity  to 
labor,  and  cherishing  the  spirit  of  manly  self-reliance,  the 
love  of  home  and  of  the  soil. 

Such  were  the  leading  features  of  the  Hebrew  polity. 

Tiie  Egyptian  State.  —  When  we  compare  these 
institutions,  so  liberal,  and,  in  many  respects,  so  closely 
resembling  our  own,  with  those  of  other  nations  of  an- 
tiquity,  we  are  struck  with  the  contrast.  In  Egypt,  for 
example,  —  from  which,  if  from  any  country,  Moses  must 
be  supposed  to  have  derived  his  notions  of  civil  govern¬ 
ment,  —  the  state  was  a  despotism.  The  soil  belonged  to 
the  monarch,  and  the  people  who  cultivated  it  belonged 
more  to  the  king,  than  to  themselves.  The  institution  of 
caste  —  that  curse  of  oriental  nations  —  prevailed  in  full 
rigor,  separating  the  people  into  three  great  classes,  —  the 
priestly,  the  military,  and  the  common  people,  or  laboring 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


253 


class  ;  which  latter  were  a  mere  herd,  without  possessions 
or  honors.  The  military  were  supported  from  the  public 
lands,  —  one-third  of  the  entire  national  domain  being 
divided  among  them  for  this  purpose.  The  priesthood 
was  the  ruling  class  —  making,  modifying,  and  interpret¬ 
ing  the  laws,  and  filling  all  the  civil  offices.  The  king  was 
chosen  either  from  the  sacerdotal  or  the  military  caste ; 
but  the  people  had  no  voice  in  the  election.  Thus  the 
king  governed  the  nation,  the  gods  governed  the  king 
(for  Egypt,  too,  was  strongly  theocratic)  ;  but  the  priests 
governed  the  gods,  by  putting  into  their  mouths  such 
oracles  as  they  chose. 

The  Oriental  States. — Not  unlike  the  Egyptian,  in 
its  general  features,  were  the  several  chief  oriental  govern¬ 
ments  of  the  ancient  world.  The  Assyrian  and  the 
Persian  states,  for  example,  were  absolute  monarchies, — 
complete  military  despotisms,  —  in  which  the  will  of  the 
monarch,  who  was  at  the  same  time  warrior  and  king, 
was  the  supreme  law.  He  might  be  a  just  and  humane 
man,  like  Cyrus,  or  the  reverse ;  he  might  govern  wisely 
and  well,  like  Darius;  or  unjustly  and  arbitrarily,  as  many, 
if  not  most  of  the  Assyrian  and  Persian  monarchs ;  but 
in  either  case  he  was  a  despot  —  irresponsible,  unrestrained 
by  law  or  constitution. 

The  Spartan  Government. — Nor  yet  in  Sparta,  under 
Lycurgus,  do  we  find  much  that  corresponds  to  our  idea 
of  civil  liberty  and  popular  rights.  The  power  of  the  state 
was  lodged  in  the  hands  of  the  senate ,  a  body  of  nobles, 
holding  office  for  life.  The  people  had,  indeed,  the  right 
to  vote  on  any  proposition  submitted  by  the  senate ;  but  it 
must  be  without  discussion,  or  statement  of  reasons, 
simply  yes  or  no.  It  was  for  the  senate  to  originate  all 

22 


254 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


laws;  in  them,  also,  was  vested  the  whole  executive 
power,  and  all  the  more  important  judicial  decisions 
were  likewise  in  their  hands.  Here  we  have  an  irresponsi¬ 
ble  oligarchy,  —  the  centralization  of  power  in  the  hands 
of  a  body  of  nobles,  —  one  of  the  worst  forms  of  despot¬ 
ism.  In  no  nation,  perhaps,  was  there  ever  less  real  free¬ 
dom,  as  to  the  matters  of  state,  and  also  of  common  life, 
than  among  the  Spartans.  All  the  affairs  of  social  and 
domestic  life,  even  the  food  and  dress  and  manners  of  the 
citizens,  were  regulated  by  strict  and  stern  decree. 

The  Athenian  State.  —  In  Athens,  again,  we  find  a 
tyranny  hardly  less  despotic,  but  of  another  kind,  —  the 
despotism  not  of  the  one,  nor  of  the  few,  but  of  the  many, 
—  the  despotism  of  a  turbulent,  fickle,  and  lawless  democ¬ 
racy.  The  Athenian  State  was,  from  the  first,  strongly 
democratic.  Even  under  the  monarchical  form  of  govern¬ 
ment,  this  tendency  wras  apparent.  The  kings  possessed 
no  absolute  power,  nor  could  they  make  or  unmake  laws 
at  their  pleasure.  But  not  even  the  form  of  monarchy 
was  suffered  long  to  remain.  By  a  clever  artifice  —  the 
election  of  Jupiter  as  sole  sovereign  of  the  people  —  roy¬ 
alty  is  virtually  abolished,  and  the  chief  power  is  lodged  in 
the  hands  of  archons,  chosen  by  the  people,  or  else  by  lot, 
at  first  for  life,  then  for  ten  years,  and,  finally,  year  by  year. 
These  archons  presided  over  the  civil  and  military  affairs  of 
the  state  —  over  religion — its  laws,  its  courts  of  justice. 
Still,  the  power  wms  in  the  hands  of  the  people.  Every 
citizen,  however  poor,  had  his  vote  in  the  popular  assembly; 
and  with  that  assembly  lay  the  power  of  peace  and  war,  of 
trying  appeals  from  the  civil  courts,  of  regulating  com¬ 
merce  and  finance;  in  a  word,  of  general  legislation.  The 
people  were  complete  masters  of  the  state. 

This  had  been  well,  if  the  people  had  only  been  masters 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


255 


of  themselves  also  ;  but,  unfortunately,  they  were  poorly 
fitted  for  self-government.  Ever  under  the  influence  of 
designing  men  and  demagogues ;  ever  ready  to  be  carried 
away,  with  or  without  due  cause,  by  some  new  excitement; 
ever  jealous  of  true  greatness,  and  of  distinguished  service 
rendered  to  the  state ;  ever  impatient  of  restraint,  and  of 
all  constitutional  barriers; — liberty  soon  degenerated  with 
them  into  licentiousness :  the  annual  elections  became 
scenes  of  disorder;  and  Athens,  broken  into  contending 
factions,  seemed  on  the  verge  of  ruin.  Draco  and  Solon 
were  successively  called  to  the  helm,  in  this  emergency ;  but 
neither  the  severity  of  the  one,  nor  the  genius  and  wisdom 
of  the  other,  proved  adequate  to  the  task  of  imposing  the 
needed  restraints  on  this  lawless  element  of  popular  will. 

Various  checks  were  indeed  introduced  by  Solon  into 
the  constitution,  such  as  the  division  of  the  citizens  into 
classes  on  a  property  basis,  and  the  restriction  of  offices  to 
the  more  wealthy ;  the  institution  of  a  senate  of  four  hun¬ 
dred,  or  council  of  state,  to  prepare  business  for  the  popular 
assembly ;  the  reestablishment  of  the  Areopagus,  as  guar¬ 
dian  of  the  laws,  and  of  the  public  treasure,  of  education 
and  of  morals ;  and,  finally,  the  appointment  of  courts  of 
judicature,  with  juries  taken  from  the  people,  and  of  itin¬ 
erant  judges  for  less  important  cases.  These  checks  on  the 
popular  lawlessness  were  well  devised,  but  in  practice 
ineffectual.  Neither  senate  of  four  hundred,  nor  Areopa¬ 
gus,  famous  for  its  wisdom,  could  withstand  the  tide  of 
popular  commotion.  The  popular  will  triumphed  over  all 
restraints  of  constitutional  law;  and,  within  ten  years  from 
its  adoption,  the  constitution  of  Solon  gave  place  to  a 
military  despotism. 

The  Roman  State. — The  classical  scholar  will  not 
need  to  be  reminded  that  the  history  of  ancient  Rome  is 


256 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


but  the  narrative  of  one  continued  struggle  between  Aris* 
tocracy  and  Democracy  —  the  Patrician  and  the  Plebeian 
blood.  In  the  original  constitution  of  the  state,  the  former 
alone,  of  these  two  classes,  was  recognized  as  having 
place  and  privilege ;  the  latter  was  an  undistinguished 
herd,  a  mere  rabble,  a  populace,  occupying  certain  sections 
of  the  city,  and  forming  a  large  portion  of  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  army,  but  of  no  account  politically;  admitted 
neither  to  the  senate,  the  magistracy,  nor  the  deliberative 
assembly. 

The  senate,  composed  entirely  of  patricians,  or  nobles, 
with  the  king  or  the  consuls  at  its  head,  was  the  adminis¬ 
trative  body,  the  executive  power.  The  senate,  together 
with  the  people, — Senatus  Populusque  Romanics,  —  con¬ 
stituted  the  deliberative  and  legislative  body  —  an  assem¬ 
bly  of  patrician  families,  distributed  into  curiae  or  wards, 
according  to  the  section  of  the  city  in  which  they  dwelt, — 
thirty  in  all,  —  the  decision  of  a  majority  of  which,  or  of 
sixteen,  was  pronounced  the  will  of  the  people.  This  as¬ 
sembly,  or  body,  was  called  the  Comitia  Curiata ,  and  was 
first  instituted  by  Romulus.  In  this  arrangement  the  ple¬ 
beians —  the  common  people  —  had  no  share  whatever. 

Comitia  Centuriata.  —  It  was  not  till  the  reign  of  Ser- 
vius  Tullius  that  the  claims  of  this  portion  of  the  citizens 
came  to  be  recognized  in  the  administration  of  government, 
by  the  institution  of  an  assembly  called  the  Comitia  Cen¬ 
turiata,  composed  of  patricians  and  plebeians  together. 
This  gave  them  important  advantages;  but  still  they  were 
excluded  from  all  the  higher  offices,  and  from  intermarriage 
with  the  patrician  families.  Nor  was  their  share  in  legis¬ 
lation  more  than  nominal.  The  constitution  of  the  Comitia 
Centuriata  w^as  as  follows  :  Tullius  divided  the  people  into 
six  classes,  on  a  property  basis,  —  the  first  class  consisting 
of  all  those  whose  estates,  in  lands  and  effects,  amounted  to 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


257 


one  hundred  thousand  pounds  of  brass ;  the  second,  of 
those  who  were  worth  seventy-five  thousand  ;  the  third,  of 
those  worth  fifty  thousand;  and  so  on  to  the  sixth  class, 
which  included  all  those  worth  less  than  twelve  thousand 
five  hundred.  This  last  included,  of  course,  most  of  the 
plebeians.  These  classes,  again,  were  divided  into  cen¬ 
turies,  one  hundred  and  ninety-three  in  all ;  of  which 
ninety-eight,  a  majority  of  the  whole,  were  in  the  first  class, 
while  the  whole  of  the  sixth  class,  comprising  a  much 
larger  number  of  the  people  than  any  other,  constituted 
but  a  single  century.  As  the  vote  was  by  centuries,  this 
arrangement,  of  course,  threw  the  whole  power  into  the 
hands  of  the  upper  classes.  Wealth  predominated  over 
numbers.  The  vote  of  the  first  class  was  first  taken,  and 
if  the  centuries  comprising  that  class  were  unanimous,  the 
question  was  decided,  and  the  remaining  centuries  were 
not  called.  The  great  body  of  the  people,  in  fact,  never 
voted  at  all  in  this  sort  of  assembly,  except  in  case  of  a 
tie  in  the  previous  ballots;  and  it  hardly  ever  happened 
that  the  lowest  class  was  called.  In  these  assemblies,  the 
more  important  magistrates  were  chosen,  —  the  consuls, 
pretors,  censors,  military  tribunes, — the  laws  proposed  by 
the  higher  magistrates  were  passed,  war  was  declared,  and 
all  crimes  against  the  state  were  tried. 

Change  of  Constitution .  —  The  disparagement  and  in¬ 
equality  of  which  I  have  spoken,  came  at  last  to  be  so 
deeply  felt  by  the  plebeian  class,  that  they  resolved  no 
longer  to  submit  to  it,  and  withdrew  in  a  body  from  the 
state.  In  order  to  persuade  them  to  return,  important  con¬ 
cessions  were  now  made.  From  the  ranks  of  the  plebeians 
two  magistrates  were  appointed,  to  be  chosen  by  the  peo¬ 
ple  themselves,  called  Tribunes  of  the  Plebeians,  as  guar¬ 
dians  of  the  interests  and  rights  of  that  body.  Their 
persons  were  inviolable,  and  they  had  full  power  to  arrest 

22* 


258 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


all  legal  proceedings  against  any  citizen.  As  another 
measure  of  relief,  the  debts  of  impoverished  plebeians 
were  also  cancelled.  The  Comitia  Tributa ,  or  Assembly 
of  the  Tribes,  was  also  instituted,  which  gave  the  plebeians 
some  share  in  legislative  affairs. 

These  comitia  embraced,  nominally,  all  the  citizens ;  but, 
as  the  votes  of  all  were  here  of  equal  weight,  the  patricians, 
or  nobles,  seldom  attended,  and  the  assembly  was,  in  fact,  a 
plebeian  affair.  In  these  assemblies,  the  inferior  city  and 
provincial  magistrates  were  chosen,  certain  laws  were 
passed,  and  certain  trials,  not  of  a  capital  nature,  were  held. 
The  tribunes  of  the  people  were  also  elected  in  these 
comitia. 

The  specific  powers  and  functions  of  these  several  as¬ 
semblies —  the  Senate,  the  Centuries,  and  the  Tribes  — 
were  probably  not  very  clearly  defined.  The  system,  as 
thus  arranged,  was  complicated  and  ill-adjusted,  and,  in  its 
practical  working,  by  no  means  harmonious.  Patricians 
and  plebeians  were  still  in  constant  rivalry  and  altercation*. 
The  latter,  however,  by  virtue  of  long-continued  and 
determined  struggles,  were  gradually  gaining  more  and 
more  power  in  the  state.  Step  by  step,  important  rights 
were  secured.  Intermarriage  of  the  two  classes  was  no 
longer  forbidden.  The  senate,  and  even  the  consulship, 
were  brought  within  reach  of  plebeian  talent  and  ambi¬ 
tion.  Finally,  of  the  two  consuls,  one  was  to  be  chosen 
invariably  from  the  plebeian  ranks,  and  the  other  high 
magistracies  were  thrown  open  to  all  classes  of  the  peo¬ 
ple.  The  decrees  of  the  Comitia  Tributa  were  also  in¬ 
vested  with  the  authority  of  general  law,  and  not  binding, 
as  before,  merely  upon  the  plebeians  themselves.  In  fact, 
the  political  distinction  of  the  two  classes  came  to  be  of 
much  less  consequence  than  before. 

These  gradual  and  important  changes  introduced  what 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


259 


has  been  justly  called  the  golden  period  of  the  Roman 
constitution.  The  regal,  the  aristocratic,  and  the  demo¬ 
cratic  elements  are  at  last  more  equitably  and  harmo¬ 
niously  combined,  —  the  consuls  representing  the  regal, 
the  senate  the  aristocratic,  and  the  comitia  of  centuries 
and  tribes  the  democratic  power  of  the  state.  Up  to 
this  time,  these  several  powers  had  been  in  continual  agi¬ 
tation  and  strife  with  each  other  for  the  ascendency. 

The  whole  history  of  the  Republic,  in  truth,  from  the 
expulsion  of  the  kings  until  the  point  which  we  have  now 
reached,  was  one  continued  struggle  between  these  sepa¬ 
rated  and  inharmonious  elements.  The  chief  power  had 
been  in  the  hands  of  the  wealthy  and  the  noble,  who 
were  ever  plotting  against  the  rights  of  the  people ;  con¬ 
suls,  pretors,  senators,  were  clothed  with  the  highest  au¬ 
thority,  even  of  life  and  death ;  the  laws  were  severe,  and 
often  unequally  administered ;  while  the  tribunes,  set  to 
guard  the  rights  of  the  people,  were  ever  aiming  at  the 
possession  of  power  and  honor  for  themselves,  and  so 
were  often  false  to  their  trust.  Such  were  the  radical 
defects  of  the  Roman  constitution  in  what  we  may  call 
the  transition  period  of  its  history. 

Further  Change .  —  IIow  long  this  better  adjusted  sys¬ 
tem  might  have  continued,  or  how  well  it  might  have 
operated  in  the  absence  of  disturbing  causes  from  with¬ 
out,  it  is  not  for  us  to  say.  But  as  Rome  enlarged  her 
borders,  and  her  power  extended  over  the  several  prov¬ 
inces  and  states  that  lay  round  about  her,  the  polity  con¬ 
structed  originally  for  the  government  of  the  city,  was 
found  ill  adapted  to  the  government  of  an  extended  coun¬ 
try.  The  people  of  the  whole  of  Italy  were  too  numer¬ 
ous  to  act  in  concert  as  a  body.  The  representative 
system  of  modern  times  was  not  as  yet  invented.  The 


260 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


democratic  element  of  the  state  became  unwieldy  and 
unmanageable.  Scenes  of  lawlessness  and  violence  en¬ 
sued  ;  mobs  prevailed ;  armies  were  necessary  to  preserve 
the  peace.  And  so  security  was  purchased  at  the  expense 
of  liberty,  and  military  rule  placed  in  the  hands  of  the 
successful  leader  the  sceptre  of  imperial  power. 

This  power  was  unlimited.  The  oath  of  allegiance, 
which  bound  the  soldier,  by  the  most  solemn  impreca¬ 
tions,  and  in  the  most  absolute  manner,  to  the  service  and 
obedience  of  his  commander,  now  bound  him  in  the  same 
terms  to  the  emperor,  as  commander-in-chief;  and  this 
oath  was  taken,  not  by  the  soldiers  only,  but  by  all  magis¬ 
trates  and  citizens.  The  civil  and  military  authority  were 
thus  united ;  the  legislative  and  the  executive  powers 
reverted  to  one  possessor;  even  the  religious  authority 
was  added,  —  the  emperor  being  invested  with  a  sacred, 
and,  in  some  sense,  divine  character;  and  so  monarchy 
displaces  at  last  the  constitution,  and  assumes  to  itself 
the  powers  and  rights  of  the  people.  Such,  in  brief  out¬ 
line,  is  the  history,  and  such  the  termination,  of  the  Ro¬ 
man  State. 

Feudal  System.  —  Thus  far,  in  our  rapid  survey  of  the 
progress  of  government  among  different  nations,  our  at¬ 
tention  has  been  directed  to  the  ancient  world.  Glancing 
now  at  the  more  recent  times,  we  find  in  the  middle  ages 
a  system  widely  prevalent,  and  of  marked  peculiarities, 
generally  known  as  the  Feudal  System. 

The  northern  tribes,  which,  on  the  decline  of  the  Ro¬ 
man  power,  overran  and  took  possession  of  the  provinces 
previously  subject  to  the  imperial  sway,  seem  to  have 
been,  for  the  most  part,  of  republican  tendencies.  Their 
chiefs,  though  sometimes  designated  by  the  title  of  king, 
possessed  but  limited  power.  The  supreme  authority  was 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


261 


with  the  people,  the  freemen  of  the  nation.  The  addi¬ 
tional  authority  conferred  upon  the  chief  appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  army  in  war,  continued  only  till  the 
return  of  peace.  These  German  chiefs  had  each  a  band 
of  followers,  voluntarily  attached  to  him,  supported  at  his 
table,  and  devoted  to  his  service.  They  were  his  vctssi , 
his  young  men ;  hence  the  term  homage ,  from  the  Latin 
homo .  They  who  stood  in  this  relation  to  the  chief,  or 
superior,  held  themselves  ready  to  follow  the  fortunes  of 
their  leader,  and  sacrifice  life  itself  for  his  interest.  The 
connection  was  one  of  the  most  binding  and  sacred  na¬ 
ture;  and  when  the  German  tribes  subdued  the  surrounding 
provinces,  and  established  their  own  forms  of  government 
in  the  conquered  territories,  the  relation  now  described 
became  one  of  the  chief  features  of  the  policy  thus  estab¬ 
lished.  Thus  arose  the  Feudal  System,  so  called  from  the 
term  Feud,  or  Fief,  which  was  the  name  given  to  those 
landed  possessions  which  the  chiefs  bestowed  on  their 
retainers,  in  the  partition  of  the  conquered  lands.  These 
fiefs  were  merely  life-loans,  the  right  of  ownership  being 
vested  in  the  chief.  If  the  son,  however,  devoted  his  per¬ 
son  and  service  to  the  chief  whom  his  father  had  served, 
he  received,  by  custom,  his  father’s  fief;  and  this  custom, 
in  the  course  of  centuries,  came  to  be  regarded  as  a  right. 
This  tenure  of  land  by  military  service,  which  is  one  of 
the  prominent  features  of  the  feudal  system,  and  which 
in  fact  has  given  it  its  name,  seems,  however,  to  have  been 
of  earlier  origin.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  custom  borrowed  from 
the  days  of  the  Roman  Empire.  Under  Constantine,  and 
the  earlier  emperors,  the  distant  provinces  of  the  empire 
wrere  granted  to  certain  military  dukes,  or  counts,  and 
their  soldiery,  on  condition  of  their  defending  the  same. 
These  military  leaders  were  magistrates,  as  well  as  com¬ 
manders  of  the  troops ;  and  the  military  thus  organized 


262 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


constituted  a  distinct  and  privileged  class  —  a  military 
aristocracy. 

Thus  arose  the  feudal  system  of  the  middle  ages,  —  at 
first  Germanic,  afterwards  extended  over  most  of  Europe, 
—  a  system  of  which  the  principal  features  were  the  two 
now  indicated  —  the  relation  of  Seignior  and  Vassal,  and 
the  tenure  of  land  as  fief,  or  feud,  for  service  rendered. 
It  was,  on  the  whole,  an  advance  on  the  arbitrary  power 
of  the  Roman  Empire.  The  inferior  had  his  acknowl¬ 
edged  rights,  and  the  chief  his  acknowledged  obligations. 
The  service  of  the  one  was  to  be  repaid  by  the  protection 
of  the  other.  Still,  it  was  a  system  fraught  with  abuse 
and  oppression.  The  lowest  members  enjoyed  very  little 
liberty,  while  to  the  peaceable  inhabitants  —  those  who 
were  not  included  in  the  army  —  this  system  afforded  no 
security  or  protection  in  their  rights. 

ExGLisn  Constitution.  —  The  earlier  Anerlo-Saxon 

o 

race  seem  to  have  derived  from  their  Germanic  ancestry 
a  love  of  freedom,  which  infused  itself  into  their  laws  and 
institutions.  The  Great  Council  of  the  nation  —  composed 
of  prelates,  abbots,  aldermen,  or  elder-men ,  of  the  shires, 
and  the  noble  and  wise  of  the  realm  —  gave  its  consent  to 
all  the  important  acts  of  government,  and  to  all  the  laws 
of  the  land.  The  Norman  Conquest  introduced  into  Eng¬ 
land  the  feudal  system,  with  even  augmented  rigor;  but 
the  conqueror  so  far  relaxed  his  severity,  subsequently,  as 
to  grant  his  subjects  a  charter,  relieving  in  a  degree  the 
feudal  oppression.  Successive  charters,  under  successive 
kings,  granted  still  greater  liberty ;  but  it  was  not  until  the 
Great  Charter  of  King  John,  that  the  English  constitution 
can  be  said  to  have  received  its  distinctive  impress  and 
character.  This  instrument  has  always  and  justly  been 
regarded  as  lying  at  the  foundation  of  English  constitu- 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


263 


tional  law.  In  the  language  of  Mr.  Ilallam:  “This  is  still 
the  key-stone  of  English  liberty.  All  that  has  since  been 
obtained,  is  little  more  than  as  confirmation  or  commen¬ 
tary  ;  and  if  every  subsequent  law  were  to  be  swept  away, 
there  would  still  remain  the  bold  features  which  distin¬ 
guish  a  free  from  a  despotic  monarchy.”  This  charter 
guarantees  security  of  person  and  of  property  to  all  free¬ 
men.  “No  freeman  shall  be  taken,  or  imprisoned,  or  dis¬ 
seized  of  his  freehold,  or  liberties,  or  free  customs;  or  be 
outlawed,  or  exiled,  or  any  otherwise  destroyed.  Nor 
will  we  pass  upon  him,  but  by  the  lawful  judgment  of  his 
peers,  and  of  the  law  of  the  land.”  The  charter  also  lim¬ 
its  and  restrains  the  previously  excessive  power  of  the 
feudal  lords  over  their  vassals. 

Further  Safeguards.  —  Another  safeguard  of  English 
liberty  was  the  restriction  of  the  right  of  taxation.  Under 
the  Saxon  and  the  Norman  dynasty,  the  king  legislated 
only  with  the  advice  and  consent  of  his  Parliament;  all 
new  laws,  and  all  new  taxes,  as  wTell  as  other  laws,  must 
receive  the  sanction  of  this  council  of  the  realm.  The 
Great  Charter  restrained  somewhat  the  royal  power  as  to 
taxes  already  established,  —  as,  for  example,  the  tax  in  com. 
mutation  for  personal  military  service,  called  escuage , — but 
it  was  not  until  Edward  the  First  that  the  English  consti¬ 
tution  received  its  complete  and  definite  form,  as  respects 
the  right  of  taxation,  requiring  the  consent  of  Parliament 
to  all  taxes  imposed  by  the  crown,  and  thus  securing  to 
private  property  that  protection  which  was  gained  for  per¬ 
sonal  libertv  under  the  Great  Charter  of  Kin<r  John. 

Already,  however,  had  another  and  even  more  important 
step  been  taken  in  the  progress  of  constitutional  liberty  in 
England.  The  same  century  that  gave  England  the  Magna 
Charta,  and  the  concessions  of  Edward  the  First,  as  to 
right  of  taxation,  witnessed  the  introduction  of  a  new  fea- 


264 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


ture  into  her  government,  —  the  participation  of  the  com¬ 
mon  people,  with  the  nobles,  in  the  deliberations  and  decis¬ 
ions  of  the  Great  Council ;  in  other  words,  the  establish¬ 
ment  of  the  House  of  Commons.  The  first  appearance  of 
deputies  from  cities  and  boroughs  in  Parliament,  was  after 
the  defeat  of  Henry  the  Third,  by  the  Barons,  in  the  battle 
of  Lewes;  and  not  until  Edward  the  First  were  they 
permanently  connected  with  that  body.  In  successive 
reigns  the  power  of  this  body  was  enlarged,  and  more  fully 
established ;  its  concurrence  with  the  House  of  Peers  be¬ 
came  necessary,  in  order  to  any  alterations  of  the  law ;  and 
it  exercised  the  right  of  inquiry  into  public  measures,  and 
abuses,  and  even  of  impeaching  the  king’s  ministers.  In 
the  fifteenth  century,  under  the  reign  of  the  House  of 
Lancaster,  these  powers  were  still  further  developed  :  the 
exclusive  right  of  taxation  by  Parliament  was  secured,  and 
so  the  right  of  controlling  the  national  expenditure;  the 
right  of  making  the  supplies  of  the  crown  depend  upon 
redress  of  grievances ;  the  right  of  controlling  the  royal 
decisions  in  questions  of  peace  and  war ;  of  punishing  un¬ 
worthy  and  corrupt  ministers ;  and,  what  is  quite  as  impor¬ 
tant,  the  right  of  liberty  of  person,  and  liberty  of  speech, 
to  every  member  of  Parliament. 

These  were  measures  of  great  moment,  and  proved  an 
effectual  security  against  the  encroachments  of  arbitrary 
power.  From  that  time  onward,  though  subject  still  to 
many  abuses  and  reverses,  the  English  constitution  became 
the  great  bulwark  of  liberty  defined  and  protected  by  law. 
The  great  elements  of  monarchy,  aristocracy,  and  democ¬ 
racy,  were  so  adjusted,  and  set  over  against  each  other,  as 
to  afford  due  check  and  balance  each  to  the  other.  Con¬ 
stitutional  government,  though  sometimes  overborne  by 
the  arbitrary  power  of  a  monarch  more  bold  and  assuming 
than  the  rest,  never  failed  to  regain  its  former  possessions 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


265 


and  rights.  The  power  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  of  Mary,  and 
of  Elizabeth,  was  still  a  power  limited  and  controlled  by 
established  law.  As  Whewell  justly  remarks  :  “  Elizabeth 
frequently  spoke  to  her  Parliaments  in  an  imperious  man¬ 
ner;  but  they,  too,  had  members,  who  spoke  boldly  on 
the  other  side ;  and  though  she  exercised  a  large  power  in 
some  instances,  she  yielded  in  others.  The  voice  of  English 
freedom  was  never  silenced  in  the  Houses  of  Parliament, 
nor  the  voice  of  English  law  in  the  Courts  of  Justice.” 

The  great  Revolution  of  1688,  which  declared  the  throne 
of  James  the  Second  vacant ,  and  placed  William  the 
Third  upon  that  throne,  as  the  representative  of  constitu¬ 
tional  liberty,  was  the  final  death-scene  of  the  doctrine  of 
absolute  power,  and  of  the  divine  right  of  kings  in  Eng¬ 
land. 

Constitution  of  the  United  States.  —  Our  historical 
sketch  of  the  different  forms  of  civil  government  would  be 
quite  incomplete  if  we  were  to  pass  without  notice  the 
constitution  of  our  own  country.  A  very  brief  survey  of 
its  more  prominent  features  is  all  which  the  limits  of  the 
present  section  allow. 

The  British  colonies  of  North  America  —  the  germ  of 
the  states  which  compose  the  Union  — brought  to  the  for¬ 
mation  and  settlement  of  their  political  and  civil  institu¬ 
tions,  a  wisdom  and  experience  in  such  matters  not  always 
enjoyed  by  the  founders  of  new  states.  They  had  the  his¬ 
tory  of  Europe  and  of  the  world  to  guide  them.  They 
brought  with  them  from  the  mother  country  a  love  of  lib¬ 
erty,  and  just  ideas  of  human  rights;  while,  at  the  same 
time,  they  were  far  from  those  restraints  which  ancient 
customs  and  usages,  and  the  regard  for  what  is  once  estab¬ 
lished,  impose  on  the  progress  of  opinion  and  improve¬ 
ment  in  the  Old  World.  The  first  principles  of  freedom 

23 


2C6 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


they  had  learned  in  the  father-land ;  while  the  errors  of 
that  government,  and  their  own  personal  injuries  and  suf¬ 
ferings  under  it,  rendered  them  deeply  sensible  of  the  dan¬ 
gers  and  evils  to  be  avoided.  When,  in  the  progress  of 
events,  their  independence  of  all  foreign  power  left  them 
at  liberty  to  choose  their  own  form  of  government,  the 
constitution  which,  after  mature  deliberation,  was  adopted, 
may  be  regarded  as  the  united  act  and  will  of  the  whole 
people. 

Principle  of  Representation .  —  The  distinguishing  fea¬ 
ture  of  the  government  —  the  basis  on  which  the  whole 
system  rests  —  on  which  all  free  institutions  must  ever  rest 
—  is  the  principle  of  just  and  equal  representation,  —  a  rep¬ 
resentation  extending  to  all  interests,  and  to  all  classes  of 
the  people.  There  is  no  privileged  class,  no  excluded  class. 
The  people  are  the  nation,  and  the  nation  governs  itself. 
With  trivial  exceptions,  the  elective  franchise  belongs  to 
the  whole  body  of  free  citizens,  without  distinction.  The 
principle  of  representation,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  in¬ 
deed  recognized  in  other  countries,  especially  in  England ; 
but  in  the  constitution  of  the  United  States  we  find  it, 
for  the  first  time  in  history,  fully  and  fairly  carried  out,  and 
made  the  foundation  of  free  government.  It  is  only  in 
this  country  that,  at  this  moment  indeed,  a  genuine  repre¬ 
sentation  of  the  people  exists. 

Relation  of  the  several  States  to  the  General  Govern¬ 
ment, —  Within  certain  limits,  the  powers  of  government 
are  exercised  by  the  respective  states  within  themselves ; 
beyond  these  limits,  the  power  is  vested  in  the  general  gov¬ 
ernment.  The  relation  of  the  several  states,  therefore,  to 
the  general  government,  is  not  that  of  so  many  independ¬ 
ent  communities  united  for  certain  purposes  in  one  confed¬ 
eration.  The  constitution  is  more  than  a  compact  between 
independent  powers :  it  is  a  union  of  the  people,  as  a 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


267 


whole,  into  one  nation  and  one  government.  Those  pow¬ 
ers  and  offices  which  more  properly  belong  to  the  nation, 
as  such,  —  as,  for  example,  the  treaty-making  power,  the 
declaring  of  peace  and  war,  the  coining  of  money,  the 
regulation  of  revenues  and  the  postal  service,  the  regula¬ 
tion  of  commerce,  and  other  like  powers  of  a  general  na¬ 
ture, —  are  under  the  control  of  the  general  government; 
while,  in  other  matters,  each  state  administers  its  own 
affairs,  independent  of  all  others. 

The  constitutions  of  the  several  states,  and  that  of  the 
United  States,  must  therefore  be  viewed  in  connection,  as 
parts  of  one  system,  in  order  to  a  complete  and  just  con¬ 
ception  of  our  government  as  a  whole. 

Distribution  of  Powers .  —  The  constitutions  of  the 
several  states,  and  that  of  the  United  States,  are  in  general 
modelled  on  the  same  plan, —  comprising,  as  their  essential 
features,  a  legislative  authority  vested  in  two  houses,  and 
an  executive,  with  prescribed  and  definite  powers  ;  —  all 
chosen,  either  by  the  people  directly,  or  through  their  rep¬ 
resentatives. 

In  the  national  government,  the  legislative  body — a  Con¬ 
gress,  as  it  is  termed  —  is  composed  of  a  Senate,  and  House 
of  Representatives ;  the  former  elected  for  the  term  of  six 
years,  by  the  legislatures  of  the  several  states,  two  for  each 
state  ;  the  latter  chosen  by  the  people  directly,  every  two 
years  —  the  number  varying  according  to  the  population 
of  each  state.  The  Executive,  whose  term  of  office  is  four 
years,  is  chosen  by  electors  appointed  for  the  purpose,  as 
the  respective  state  legislatures  may  direct. 

All  bills  for  revenue  must  originate  in  the  house  of  rep¬ 
resentatives.  All  cases  of  impeachment  of  public  officers 
must  be  tried  by  the  senate.  Every  bill  passed  by  the 
senate  and  house  of  representatives  must  be  submitted  to, 


2G8 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


and  approved  by  the  executive,  before  it  becomes  a  law. 
In  case  he  refuses  his  approval  and  signature,  it  is  returned, 
with  his  objections,  in  writing,  to  the  house  from  which  it 
originated;  and  if,  upon  reconsideration,  it  is  still  approved 
by  two-thirds  of  the  house,  it  is  then  sent  to  the  other 
house,  and  if  passed  by  two- thirds  of  that  also,  it  then 
becomes  a  law,  irrespective  of  the  presidential  veto. 

Congress  has  power  to  levy  taxes,  duties,  etc.;  to  borrow 
money  ;  to  regulate  commerce  with  foreign  nations,  and 
between  the  several  states ;  to  raise  and  support  armies, 
and  provide  a  navy;  to  organize  the  Supreme  Court,  and 
appoint  tribunals  inferior  to  the  same  ;  to  punish  treason, 
piracy,  and  offences  against  the  laws  of  nations  ;  to  coin 
money,  and  establish  post-offices  and  post-routes ;  to  make 
all  needful  rules  for  the  government  of  the  territories  of  the 
United  States;  to  admit  new  states  to  the  Union,  and  to 
propose  amendments  to  the  constitution  by  vote  of  two- 
thirds  of  both  houses, — such  amendments  to  be  ratified  by 
the  legislatures,  or  by  conventions  called  for  the  purpose, 
in  three-fourths  of  the  states. 

Besides  the  negative  power  already  mentioned,  the  ex¬ 
ecutive,  by  consent  of  the  senate,  may  make  treaties,  and 
appoint  ambassadors,  and  the  principal  officers  of  the  gov¬ 
ernment.  A  pardoning  power  is  also  lodged  in  his  hands. 

Xeither  congress  nor  the  executive  has  any  power  to  in¬ 
terfere  with,  or  prevent,  the  largest  freedom  of  speech,  and 
of  the  press,  nor  the  utmost  liberty  of  religious  belief  and 
worship. 

Points  of  Contrast .  —  If  one  were  asked  to  point  out 
the  essential  advantages  of  this  constitution  over  those  of 
other  countries,  —  as,  for  example,  of  England,  or  of  the 
ancient  republics,  —  the  limited  outline  already  given  would 
furnish  an  answer.  In  no  other  country,  ancient  or  mod' 


OF  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 


2G9 


ern,  will  he  find  the  great  principle  of  popular  representa¬ 
tion,  which  underlies  all  free  government,  so  fully  carried 
out,  and  completely  embodied  into  the  whole  structure  of 
government ;  in  almost  no  other,  such  unlimited  freedom 
of  speech,  and  the  press ;  in  no  other,  such  entire  absence 
of  all  church,  or  other  religious  establishments,  prescribed 
by  law  —  such  entire  freedom  of  all  men  to  do  as  they  please 
in  matters  of  religious  belief  and  worship  ;  in  no  other, 
such  entire  exemption  from  military  establishments,  and 
a  standing  army ;  in  no  other,  the  rights  of  citizens,  with¬ 
out  distinction  of  persons  and  classes,  so  fully  and  effect¬ 
ually  secured. 

Resume.  — We  have,  in  the  preceding  pages,  as  was  pro¬ 
posed,  passed  in  brief  review  the  leading  features  of  some 
of  the  more  prominent  forms  of  government,  as  developed 
among  the  chief  historic  nations  of  ancient  and  modern 
times.  Everywhere  we  find  the  three  great  elements  of  all 
government — monarchy,  aristocracy,  democracy — more  or 
less  fully  developed,  more  or  less  in  conflict  with  each 
other,  more  or  less  checking  and  balancing  each  the 
other.  We  find  the  simplicity  and  unity  of  patriarchal 
rule  —  the  germ,  doubtless,  whence  all  civil  governments 
originally  sprang  —  tending  naturally  to  the  concentration 
of  power  in  the  hands  of  one ;  in  other  words,  to  monarchy: 
and  this  we  find  the  predominant  element,  as  we  might 
expect,  in  the  earlier  and  oriental  governments.  As  we 
pass  on  down  the  line  of  nations  and  of  ages,  we  find  this 
monarchical  power  more  and  more  limited  and  circum¬ 
scribed  by  the  power  of  chiefs  and  nobles;  the  aristocratic 
element  thrusting  itself  into  prominence  ;  at  times  displac¬ 
ing  even  the  kingly  power  altogether,  as  in  Sparta,  and  the 
Roman  Republic.  In  the  progress  of  time,  the  popular  will 
learns  its  strength,  and  asserts  its  rights ;  the  democratic 

23* 


270 


VARIOUS  FORMS 


element  conies  into  view  as  an  important  factor  ;  wages,  for 
a  time,  unequal  strife  with  the  antagonist  forces  of  kingly 
and  aristocratic  power ;  gains  for  itself,  in  the  end,  impor¬ 
tant  rights  and  privileges,  as  in  the  long-continued  struggle 
between  the  plebeian  and  patrician  classes  in  Rome  ;  and, 
finally  triumphant,  secures  for  itself  charters,  and  constitu¬ 
tions,  and  laws,  guarding  forever  its  liberties  against  all 
aggression,  as  in  England. 

One  thing  is  noticeable  in  this  brief  outline  of  the  his¬ 
tory  of  civil  government,  —  the  entire  absence  of  that 
most  important  feature  of  all  free  governments  —  the 
representative  principle  —  in  all  the  ancient  systems,  with 
the  exception,  perhaps,  of  the  Hebrew ;  and  even  in  that, 
the  principle,  if  recognized,  was  not  very  clearly  defined. 
The  systems  of  Solon  and  of  Lycurgus  are  ignorant  of  it. 
In  Rome,  it  was  the  very  thing  wanting  to  secure  the 
rights  of  the  people,  and  put  an  end  to  the  incessant  con¬ 
flicts  of  plebeian  and  patrician  factions.  It  is  only  in  the 
history  of  the  English  constitution  that  we  lind  this  great 
principle  first  distinctly  brought  forward,  as  the  basis  of 
just  legislation. 

Nor  can  I  forbear  to  mention  yet  another  thing,  —  the 
close  resemblance,  in  many  respects,  between  the  ancient 
Hebrew  Commonwealth  and  our  own.  The  Institutes  of 
Moses  give  us  the  first  truly  free  and  republican  state,  of 
which  history  retains  any  record.  Ages  passed  away  be¬ 
fore  another  appeared  worthy  to  be  compared  with  that, — 
acres  of  conflict  and  turmoil,  and  manifold  but  too  often 
futile  experiments.  Not  from  Athens,  Rome,  or  Sparta, 
have  we  derived  the  essential  principles  of  our  constitu¬ 
tion.  The  cradle  of  American  liberty  was  rocked,  not  in 
ancient  Greece,  or  sunny  Italy,  but  in  the  deserts  of  Ara' 
bia,  and  at  the  frowning  base  of  Iloreb. 


DUTIES  TO  THE  STATE. 


271 


CHAPTER  III. 

DUTIES  OF  THE  SUBJECT  TO  THE  STATE. 

We  have  already  defined  the  state  to  be  any  commu¬ 
nity  dwelling  together,  and  organized  for  the  purpose 
of  civil  government.  We  have  found  it,  as  an  institution, 
closely  analogous  to,  and  probably  originating  in,  the  sys¬ 
tem  of  parental  government  in  the  family ;  we  have  seen 
it  to  be  founded,  immediately  and  primarily,  on  the  con¬ 
sent  of  the  governed,  regarded  as  contracting  parties,  freely 
entering  into  and  abiding  by  certain  arrangements  for  the 
general  good ;  mediately  and  ultimately,  on  the  social  na¬ 
ture  of  man,  and  so,  on  the  will  of  God,  as  the  author 
of  that  nature.  The  way  is  thus'  prepared  for  the  consid¬ 
eration,  in  the  present  chapter,  of  the  duties  which  this 
relation  imposes  upon  the  subject,  or  citizen,  to  the  state 
of  which  he  is  a  member,  and  the  government  under  which 
he  lives. 

These  duties  are  various ;  prominent  among  which  may 
be  named  the  duty  to  respect  and  honor ,  to  obey ,  to  sup¬ 
port,  and  to  defend  the  government  whose  protection  he 
enjoys. 

1.  Respect. — It  is  incumbent  on  every  citizen  to  respect 
and  honor  the  state  and  its  constituted  authorities,  —  to 
treat  with  becoming  deference  its  laws,  its  established 
forms  and  usages,  its  magistrates  and  officers,  whether 
executive,  legislative,  or  judiciary.  It  is  only  through 
these,  its  laws,  its  usages,  its  constituted  authorities,  that 
the  state,  as  such,  comes  into  practical  relation  to  the  citi¬ 
zen,  as  such.  To  honor  these,  is  to  honor  the  state;  to  dis- 


272 


DUTIES  OF  THE  SUBJECT 


honor  these,  is  to  cast  contempt  upon  the  whole  institution 
and  fabric  of  civil  government. 

These  laws,  forms,  and  constituted  authorities,  demand 
respect,  as  being  in  themselves  the  expression  of  the  popular 
will,  and  the  popular  sovereignty.  That  will  and  sovereign 
power,  find  their  material  embodiment  and  expression  in 
these  forms,  just  as  the  thought,  or  feeling,  that  agitate  and 
lie  hidden  in  the  breast,  find  their  utterance  and  expression 
in  the  spoken  word.  The  laws  of  the  state,  its  established 
usages  and  institutions,  its  appointed  officers,  are  to  me 
the  visible  representation  and  the  uttered  voice  of  the 
state  itself.  I  am  bound  to  respect  them,  as  I  respect  the 
majesty  and  collected  wish  and  power  of  the  whole  people* 
If  it  is  fit  and  proper  that  I  should  respect  and  honor  any 
individual  man,  as  such,  and  for  what  he  is  in  himself,  much 
more  that  I  should  honor  the  collective  wisdom  and  dig- 
nity  and  worth  of  the  whole  nation,  —  that  is,  the  con¬ 
stitution,  laws,  and  officers,  which  represent  and  embody 
these. 

Especially  is  this  duty  incumbent  on  those  who  live 
under  a  free  and  republican  government.  There  is,  if 
I  mistake  not,  in  the  very  nature  of  such  institutions, 
that  which  makes  it  the  special  and  imperative  duty  of 
their  subjects  to  cherish  towards  them  sentiments  of  re¬ 
spect.  A  free,  and  especially  a  republican  government, 
is  peculiarly  exposed  to  danger,  from  the  prevalence  of 
erroneous  views  and  sentiments  among  the  people ;  pecu¬ 
liarly  dependent  on  their  respect,  and  earnest,  honest 
attachment.  In  a  monarchical,  and  especially  a  despotic 
government,  there  is  comparatively  little  danger  from  this 
source.  There  are  elements  of  power  in  such  a  govern¬ 
ment  which  can  command,  if  not  the  love,  at  least  the 
respect  of  the  subjects.  The  pomp  of  royalty;  the  splendor 
of  the  throne ;  the  power  of  military  forces ;  the  prestige 


TO  THE  STATE. 


273 


of  kingly  birth  and  name ;  the  associations  of  the  past,  and 
the  visible  majesty  and  strength  of  the  present,  —  these  all 
speak  to  the  senses  of  the  common  mass,  to  the  dullest 
understanding,  and  make  themselves  respected  and  feared. 

In  a  republican  state,  these  elements  are  wanting.  There 
is  no  royalty;  no  splendor  of  court  and  throne;  no  ances¬ 
tral  honors;  no  regal  dignity  of  birth  and  lineage;  no 
standing  army,  to  enforce  obedience  and  command  respect. 
The  foundation  of  every  free  government  is  laid  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people.  The  pillars  of  the  republican  state 
are  the  virtue,  intelligence,  and  loyalty  of  her  sons.  She 
is  strong  only  as  they  stand  around  her  in  their  united 
strength  —  reverent,  filial,  and  firm  in  her  defence.  When 
they  become  disaffected  and  disloyal,  the  state  is  in  peril ; 
when  they  withdraw  their  respect  and  confidence,  it  falls ; 
—  the  fair  fabric,  reared  with  so  much  care,  and  treasure, 
and  toil,  —  the  goodly  temple  of  liberty,  —  lies  in  ruins. 
No  accumulation  of  physical  resources  can  save  it;  no  mul¬ 
tiplied  strength  of  numbers,  and  of  sinewy  arms,  or  of  mil¬ 
itary  weapons,  can  save  it  from  such  a  fate,  when  once  the 
respect  and  attachment  of  the  people  for  their  civil  institu¬ 
tions  is  gone.  The  love  of  law  and  order,  and  of  our  own 
forms  of  government,  as  such,  —  this  is  our  strength,  our 
safety,  our  right  arm  of  defence.  A  despotism,  or  limited 
monarchy,  —  almost  any  other  form  of  government,  —  may 
continue  to  subsist  without  this  element ;  a  republic,  never. 

2.  Obedience. — One  of  the  first  and  most  imperative 
duties  of  the  citizen  to  the  state  of  which  he  is  a  member, 
is  to  obey  its  just  laws  and  requirements.  Whatever  rea¬ 
sons  there  are  for  the  existence  of  the  state,  and  of  such  a 
thing  as  civil  government,  be  those  reasons  more  or  less 
numerous  and  weighty,  the  same,  and  with  equal  force, 
are  to  be  urged  in  favor  of  obedience  to  that  government, 


274 


DUTIES  OF  THE  SUBJECT 


within  its  just  bounds.  Not  to  obey,  is  virtually  to  annul, 
and  abolish,  both  law,  and  the  authority  that  makes  law. 
Every  citizen  is  bound  to  submit  to  the  civil  authority, 
then,  because,  in  the  first  place,  the  public  good  requires 
it.  Society  cannot  prosper,  nor  even  long  exist,  without 
government.  No  community  can  dwell  together  in  har¬ 
mony  without  the  recognized  principle  of  law  to  regulate 
its  movements,  and  balance  its  otherwise  conflicting  inter¬ 
ests.  As  well  dispense  with  gravitation  in  the  physical 
world,  and  expect  mountains  and  seas  and  all  tilings  to  keep 
fast  their  jflaces,  as  with  law  in  the  moral  world,  and  ex¬ 
pect  human  affairs  to  move  on  harmoniously  and  in  order. 

This  is  sufficiently  attested  by  the  experience  of  all 
times ;  by  the  fact  that  no  community  is  known  to  exist 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  entirely  without  any  principle 
of  law,  or  any  form  of  government ;  by  the  universally 
observed  truth,  that  in  any  community,  just  in  proportion 
as  the  arm  of  state  is  inert  and  inefficient,  crime  prevails, 
injustice  abounds,  the  best  interests  of  the  whole  people 
suffer. 

Additional  Reason.  —  In  every  free  government,  the  citi¬ 
zen  is  under  an  additional  obligation  to  obey  the  laws  and 
uphold  the  institutions  of  his  country,  from  the  fact  that 
those  laws  and  institutions  are  the  expressed  wish  and  choice 
of  the  whole  people.  This  circumstance  gives  them  addi¬ 
tional  authority.  Every  individual  is  under  obligation  to  re¬ 
spect  the  wishes  and  the  rights  of  the  whole  body,  of  which 
lie  is  a  member,  and  to  submit  to  those  rules  and  requisi¬ 
tions  which  the  collective  wisdom  and  will  of  the  whole 
body  have  appointed.  Nations  may  be  independent  of  each 
other,  to  some  extent ;  but  not  so  with  individuals  dwelling 
together  in  the  same  community.  But,  suppose  I  am  dis¬ 
satisfied  with  existing  arrangements:  what  is  my  remedy? 
I  have  the  right,  in  that  case,  to  do  all  I  can,  peaceably,  to 


TO  THE  STATE.  275 

• 

effect  a  change  in  those  arrangements,  and  in  the  public 
opinion  that  sustains  them.  This  is  my  undoubted  privi¬ 
lege.  But  I  have  no  right,  simply  because  the  existing 
laws  and  government  do  not  suit  my  notions  of  what 
the  laws  and  government  should  be,  to  cast  off  all  alle¬ 
giance,  and  refuse  submission  to  them ;  for  this  is  to  say, 
the  people  shall  not  rule.  When  the  voice  of  the  millions, 
rising  in  majesty,  is  heard  to  say,  “  Let  such  things,  such 
rules,  such  rulers  be,”  it  is  not  for  the  individual  voice  to 
say,  “No,  they  shall  not  be.”  This  is  a  principle,  however, 
which  applies  only  to  such  governments  as  are  in  reality 
the  choice  and  will,  expressed,  or  implied,  of  the  people 
governed.  When  the  laws  and  rulers  are  not  of  the  peo¬ 
ple’s  making,  but  imposed  upon  them  by  arbitrary  power, 
the  duty  of  submission  must  turn  upon  other  considera¬ 
tions. 

I  find,  then,  that  my  duty  to  my  fellow-citizens,  and  my 
own,  no  less  than  the  public  good,  require  of  me  obedience 
to  civil  authority.  It  might  be  added  that,  inasmuch  as 
I  have  enjoyed  for  a  considerable  time  the  inestimable 
advantages  of  civil  society  and  a  good  government,  I  am 
bound  in  gratitude  to  do  what  I  can  to  sustain  and  uphold 
the  same,  as  but  a  reasonable  return  for  favors  received ; 
and  furthermore,  that  by  living  under  this  system,  and 
taking  some  part,  it  may  be,  as  a  citizen,  in  its  affairs,  I 
have  in  a  manner,  tacitly,  but  virtually,  pledged  myself  to 
such  a  course. 

A  Question .  —  But,  here  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  obe¬ 
dience  of  the  subject  to  be  unconditional  and  unqualified  ? 
is  he  to  obey  any  and  all  laws  and  requirements,  what¬ 
ever  they  may  be?  This  I  cannot  affirm.  I  have  spoken 
of  the  duty  of  obedience  only  to  such  laws  as  are  just 
and  right;  such  as  do  not  exceed  the  proper  province  and 
prerogative  of  the  state ;  such  as  do  not  come  clearly  into 


276  DUTIES  OF  THE  SUBJECT 

• 

conflict  with  that  revealed  will  of  God,  which  is  above  all 
human  legislation,  and  to  which  alone  we  are  ultimately 
accountable.  Whatever  enactment  of  human  authority 
conflicts  with  this  prior  and  supreme  law,  carries  with  it, 
at  the  bar  of  conscience,  no  power  of  obligation  —  be¬ 
comes  to  every  intelligent  and  devout  mind,  so  soon  as  it 
is  perceived  to  be  contrary  to  the  divine  will,  null  and 
void.  There  can  be  no  question  on  this  point,  which  will 
not  lead  to  practical  atheism,  to  the  deposing  the  Supreme 
Iluler  from  the  throne  of  the  universe,  and  placing  there¬ 
on  the  merely  human  lawgiver  and  magistrate  instead. 
When  the  state  to  which  I  hold  allegiance  so  far  forgets 
itself  as  to  step  beyond  its  proper  province,  and  command 
what  it  has  no  right  to  command,  my  obligation  ceases; 
when  it  goes  further  even  than  this,  and  commands  what 
God  has  forbidden,  its  commands  must  be  disregarded. 
In  the  former  case,  I  may  obey  or  not,  as  I  please;  in  the 
latter,  I  have  no  right  to  obey:  obedience  becomes  a  sin. 

Further  Question .  —  But,  it  may  still  be  asked,  in  what 
cases  is  resistance  justifiable  ?  Suppose  the  acts  of  gov¬ 
ernment,  though  not,  perhaps,  specially  in  conflict  with 
the  divine  commands,  are,  nevertheless,  arbitrary  and  op¬ 
pressive  ;  the  service  required,  the  taxes  levied,  the  dis¬ 
posal  made  of  the  public  resources,  the  administration  of 
justice,  are  all  such  as  to  occasion  discontent  among  the 
people  ;  a  series  of  systematic  encroachments  is  made  upon 
the  public  rights,  and  the  intention  is  evident  to  crush  out 
the  spirit  of  liberty  from  the  nation,  and  establish  despot¬ 
ism  in  place  of  free  institutions  ;  —  suppose  such  a  state  of 
civil  affairs  to  occur  in  any  country,  —  a  condition  of 
things  which,  unfortunately,  is  of  too  frequent  occurrence 
in  the  history  of  the  world,  —  are  the  people,  in  such  a 
case,  under  obligation  still  to  yield  obedience?  I  reply, 


TO  THE  STATE. 


277 


that,  according  to  the  doctrine  maintained  in  the  previous 
chapter,  government  exists  for  the  good  of  the  governed : 
not  the  people  for  the  king,  the  governor,  the  magistrate ; 
but  king,  governor,  magistrate,  for  the  people  :  not  society 
for  the  law,  but  the  law  for  society.  The  end  of  law  and 
government  is  the  public  welfare,  —  that,  and  that  only. 
And  when,  in  any  case,  the  existing  system  no  longer 
subserves  this  end  ;  when  the  public  good  is  not  promoted, 
but  hindered  by  it;  when  either  the  public  freedom  or  the 
public  virtue,  or  both,  are  in  danger  from  the  arm  that  is 
appointed  to  protect  them,  —  then  it  may  become  not  only 
the  right,  but  the  duty  of  the  people,  to  resist  the  power 
that  proves  itself  false  and  recreant  to  its  trust,  and  to 
effect  a  change  of  government. 

The  right  to  such  resistance  and  change  becomes  still 
©  © 

more  apparent,  if  we  adopt  the  view,  maintained  in  the 
previous  chapter,  that  government  is,  in  its  essential  na¬ 
ture,  a  species  of  contract  between  the  different  members 
of  the  body  politic.  If  this  be  so,  then  surely,  when,  by 
any  dishonesty  or  negligence  of  any  of  the  parties  to  this 
engagement,  the  essential  terms  and  conditions  of  the 
contract  are  violated,  and  the  end  which  it  was  designed 
to  accomplish  is  no  longer  secured,  they  who  make  the 
contract  have  the  right  to  unmake  it,  or  change  it  as  they 
like. 

Objection .  —  It  may  be  said,  this  leaves  too  wide  a  door 
for  faction  and  revolution  to  come  in,  encourages  discon- 
tent,  and  endangers  the  stability  of  all  government.  I)r. 
Paley  has  urged  this  objection  as  of  force  against  the  the¬ 
ory  of  social  compact;  he  regards  that  theory  of  the  na¬ 
ture  of  government  as  leading,  in  this  way,  to  dangerous 
conclusions.  That  the  principle  now  stated  is  one  liable 
to  abuse,  must  be  confessed  ;  but  what  principle,  it  may 
be  replied,  that  we  could  substitute  in  its  place,  would  be 

24 


278 


DUTIES  OF  THE  SUBJECT 


less  so.  Shall  we,  then,  deny  to  the  people  the  right, 
under  any  circumstances,  of  resistance  and  of  revolution  ? 
Shall  we  say  it  is  always  the  duty  of  the  subject  to  sub¬ 
mit  to  government,  no  matter  how  oppressive  and  tyran¬ 
nical,  how  unjust,  or  even  how  impious?  Does  the  mere 
fact  that  a  corrupt  and  tyrannical  government  exists,  give 
it  the  right  always  to  exist  ? 

This  will  hardly  be  maintained,  even  by  the  most  con¬ 
servative  theorist.  Indeed,  Dr.  Paley  himself,  when  he 
comes  to  consider  the  practical  question  of  the  right  of 
resistance,  goes  quite  as  far  as  the  most  earnest  advocate 
of  popular  rights  would  care  to  go  in  this  direction.  Re¬ 
garding  government,  as  he  does,  to  be  purely  a  matter 
of  expediency,  and  not  of  the  nature  of  a  social  contract, 
the  justice  of  every  particular  case  of  resistance,  he  affirms, 
“is  reduced  to  a  computation  of  the  quantity  of  the  dan¬ 
ger  and  grievance  on  the  one  side,  and  of  the  probability 
and  expense  of  redressing  it  on  the  other.” 

“But  who  shall  judge  of  this?”  he  continues.  “We 
answer,  ‘ Every  man  for  himself  ?  In  contentions  between 
the  sovereign  and  the  subject,  the  parties  acknowledge 
no  common  arbitrator;  and  it  would  be  absurd  to  refer 
the  decision  to  those ,  whose  conduct  has  provoked  the 
question,  and  whose  own  interest,  authority,  and  fate,  are 
immediately  concerned  in  it.” 

Indeed,  Dr.  Paley  claims  it  as  a  special  advantage  of 
the  doctrine  of  expediency  over  that  of  all  implied  com¬ 
pacts  and  covenants,  of  whatsoever  sort,  that  it  furnishes 
an  easy  answer  to  the  question,  under  what  circumstances 
resistance  and  revolution  are  allowable.  lie  states  the 
following,  among  other  inferences  from  that  doctrine,  bear¬ 
ing  upon  the  present  question  :  “It  may  he  as  much  a 
duty ,  at  one  time ,  to  resist  government ,  as  it  is ,  at  another , 
to  obey  it ;  to  wit,  whenever  more  advantage  will,  in  our 


279 


TO  THE  STATE. 

opinion,  accrue  to  the  community  from  resistance,  than 
mischief.” 

“  The  lawfulness  of  resistance,  or  the  lawfulness  of  a 
revolt,  does  not  depend  alone  upon  the  grievance  which 
is  sustained  or  feared,  but  also  upon  the  probable  expense 
and  event  of  the  contest.” 

And  again:  “No  usage,  law,  or  authority  whatever,  is 
so  binding,  that  it  need  or  ought  to  be  continued,  when 
it  may  be  changed  with  advantage  to  the  community.” 

This  is  surely  sufficiently  explicit,  and  sufficiently  revo¬ 
lutionary.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  doctrine  of  a 
social  compact  could  lead  to  results  more  thoroughgoing, 
and  more  radical,  than  these.  With  the  general  doctrine 
here  advanced,  that  resistance  is,  at  times,  a  duty,  I  fully 
agree  ;  and  also  that  it  must  be  left  with  the  people  to 
decide  when  the  proper  time  has  come  for  such  resistance. 
But  that,  in  deciding  this  important  point,  we  have  only, 
or  chiefly,  to  take  into  account  the  expense,  and  the  prob¬ 
able  issue  of  the  contest,  as  weighed  against  the  amount 
of  grievance,  admits  of  question.  There  may  be  other 
and  more  important  considerations,  as  it  seems  to  me,  than 
even  these  ;  and  I  can  conceive  of  cases,  not  of  improb¬ 
able  occurrence,  in  which  resistance  would  be  the  duty  of 
the  people,  or  the  citizen,  against  the  most  powerful  odds, 
and  with  but  the  slightest  prospect  of  success. 

The  Rule  and  the  Exception .  —  It  must  be  borne  in 
mind,  however,  in  all  discussions  of  this  subject,  that  the 
general  duty  of  the  subject  is  obedience ,  not  resistance  ; 
that  the  latter  is  the  exception,  the  former  the  rule ;  and 
that,  while  cases  may  occur  which  shall  render  the  excep¬ 
tion  justifiable,  a  steady  adherence  to  the  rule  is,  under 
ordinary  circumstances,  the  only  wise  and  safe  course. 
There  is  certainly  more  danger,  at  least  in  any  free  and 


280 


DUTIES  OF  THE  SUBJECT 


intelligent  community,  that  the  people,  jealous  of  their 
rights,  and  forgetful  of  their  obligations,  will  be  lacking 
in  the  duty  of  obedience  to  constituted  authority,  than 
that  they  will  be  wanting  in  the  spirit  of  manly  resistance 
to  unjust  and  arbitrary  rule.  The  tendency,  it  must  be 
confessed,  in  our  own  country,  at  the  present  time,  is 
rather  to  a  want  than  to  an  excess  of  reverence  for  and 
loyalty  to  established  institutions  and  forms  of  govern¬ 
ment,  and  especially  for  that  which  is  the  foundation  of 
all,  the  constitution . 

Obedience  enjoined  in  Scripture . —  The  word  of  God 
is  very  explicit  on  this  point.  We  are  directed  to  submit 
ourselves  “to  every  ordinance  of  man  for  the  Lord’s  sake; 
whether  it  be  to  the  king,  as  supreme,  or  unto  governors, 
as  unto  them  that  are  sent  by  him  for  the  punishment  of 
evil-doers,  and  for  the  praise  of  them  that  do  well.  For 
so  is  the  will  of  God,”  etc.  (I  Peter  ii.  13 — 15).  And 
still  more  explicitly:  “Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto  the 
higher  powers.  F or  there  is  no  power  but  of  God :  the 
powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God.  Whosoever,  there¬ 
fore,  resisteth  the  power,  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God ; 
and  they  that  resist  shall  receive  to  themselves  damnation. 
For  rulers  are  not  a  terror  to  good  works,  but  to  the  evil. 
Wilt  thou  then  not  be  afraid  of  the  power?  do  that  which 
is  good,  and  thou  shalt  have  praise  of  the  same;  for  he  is 
the  minister  of  God  to  thee  for  good.  But  if  thou  do 
that  which  is  evil,  be  afraid ;  for  he  beareth  not  the  sword 
in  vain  ;  for  he  is  the  minister  of  God,  a  revenger  to  exe¬ 
cute  wrath  upon  him  that  doeth  evil.  Wherefore,  ye 
must  needs  be  subject  not  only  for  wrath,  but  also  for 
conscience’  sake.  For,  for  this  cause,  pay  you  tribute 
also ;  for  they  are  God’s  ministers,  attending  continually 
upon  this  very  thing.  Render,  therefore,  to  all  their 


TO  THE  STATE. 


281 


dues,  —  tribute  to  whom  tribute  is  due,  custom  to  whom 
custom,  fear  to  whom  fear,  honor  to  whom  honor”  (Rom. 
xiii.  1 — 7). 

These  passages  might  seem,  at  first  sight,  to  teach  the 
doctrine  of  unlimited  and  passive  obedience.  Such,  I 
think,  cannot  be  the  intention  of  the  sacred  writers;  but 
rather,  as  Paley  justly  remarks,  to  set  forth  the  duty  of 
obedience  to  civil  government,  without  describing  the 
extent  of  it. 

They  place  before  the  Christian  disciple  the  duty  of  sub¬ 
mission  and  obedience,. not  to  this  or  that  particular  form 
of  government,  but  to  the  established  authority  of  the 
land  in  which  he  dwells.  They  inculcate  this  duty  in  the 
same  way,  and  on  the  same  ground,  as  the  duty  of  obedi- 
dience  to  parental  authority  in  the  family.  It  was  no  part 
of  the  object  of  the  writers,  in  these  passages,  to  point  out 
exceptions,  but  only  to  enforce  the  rule.  We  are  not  to 
infer  from  this,  however,  that  in  all  cases  whatsoever  obe-# 
dience  is  a  duty,  and  resistance  a  sin.  In  the  words  of  an 
able,  but  cautious  and  conservative  writer, — Whewell, — 
“These  passages  do  not  at  all  show  that  in  any  sttlte  it 
may  not  be  the  duty  of  the  powers  that  he  to  alter  the 
laws,  to  appoint  new  magistrates,  new  magistracies,  and 
the  like ;  and  allowable  in  extreme  cases,  in  cases  of  neces¬ 
sity,  to  alter  the  constitution  of  the  country,  or  to  depose 
the  sovereign.” 

3.  Support  and  Defence. — To  obey,  is  not  the  whole 
duty  of  the  citizen.  The  civil  authority  is  to  be  main¬ 
tained  by  needful  supplies,  and,  if  need  be,  defended 
against  foreign  aggression.  To  this  end,  taxes  may  justly 
be  levied,  whether  directly,  or  in  the  shape  of  duties  im¬ 
posed  on  articles  of  commerce ;  and  to  all  such  regula¬ 
tions  looking  to  the  necessary  fiscal  revenues  of  the  gov- 

24* 


232  DUTIES  OF  THE  SUBJECT 

ernment,  the  citizen  ought  willingly  to  submit.  The  state 
cannot  exist  for  any  length  of  time,  nor  the  affairs  of  gov¬ 
ernment  be  administered,  without  resources.  In  some 
form,  its  expenses  must  be  provided  for  by  the  citizens ;  and 
in  whatever  mode  this  may  be  done,  it  is  the  duty  of  every 
man  to  bear  his  fair  proportion  of  the  expense.  Evasion 
of  the  laws  which  regulate  this  matter,  is  as  really  dishon¬ 
orable,  and  immoral,  as  evasion  of  any  laws  respecting 
property.  To  cheat  the  government,  is  as  really  a  fraud  as 
to  cheat  a  private  person.  It  is  even  a  greater  dishonesty, 
and  a  more  serious  crime,  inasmuch  as  the  rights  of  the 
state  are  of  more  dignity  and  importance  than  those  of 
the  individual.  When  my  dishonesty  goes  no  further 
than  to  take  the  property  of  my  neighbor,  I  defraud  one 
man  only;  when  it  extends  to  the  property  of  govern¬ 
ment,  I  defraud  the  whole  community.  Tribute  to  whom 
tribute  is  due,  is  the  rule  of  the  sacred  Scriptures.  We 
are  to  render  unto  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar’s,  no 
less  than  to  God  the  things  that  are  God’s. 

Not  less  is  it  the  duty  of  the  citizen  to  defeyid  the  state, 
if  need  be,  from  personal  violence.  In  repelling  aggression 
from  without,  or  sustaining,  by  personal  service,  civil  or 
military,  the  authority  of  government  against  sedition  and 
rebellion, —  against  lawlessness  and  anarchy  within  its  own 
borders,  —  the  aid  of  the  citizen  may  be  necessary.  The 
good  and  true  citizen,  who  understands  well  what  he  owes 
to  himself,  and  to  society,  will  never  hesitate  in  such  an 
emergency.  At  the  call  of  his  country,  in  defence  of  law 
and  justice,  in  defence  of  the  state  to  which  he  owes  alle¬ 
giance,  he  will  be  ready  to  sacrifice,  if  need  be,  all  personal 
considerations  of  ease,  safety,  or  profit,  and  lay  upon  the 
altar  of  freedom  and  of  the  right,  himself  and  whatever 
he  has. 


duties  of  the  state. 


283 


CHAPTER  IY. 

DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE  TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 

It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  state,  as  already  de¬ 
fined,  is  simply  a  society  or  community,  dwelling  together 
in  the  sune  territory,  and  organized  for  purposes  of  gov¬ 
ernment.  When  we  inquire,  then,  for  the  duties  of  the 
state  to  its  subjects,  we  are  simply  inquiring  what  duties 
the  whole  society,  or  the  aggregate  of  individuals,  as  thus 
organized,  owes  to  each  of  its  members.  To  this,  a  plain 
and  obviously  correct  reply,  comprehensive  of  all,  is  this: 
It  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to  protect  every  one  of  its  sub¬ 
jects  in  all  his  proper  rights  /  in  other  words,  to  do  what 
it  virtually  engages  and  promises  to  do,  by  the  terms  of 
its  constitution,  or  social  compact. 

The  question,  What  are  the  proper  rights  of  the  subject? 
may  admit  of  various  opinions.  They  may  be  more  or 
less  expressly  guaranteed  to  him  in  the  laws  and  constitu¬ 
tion  of  his  country;  and  in  different  states  these  may  vary. 
There  can  be  no  question,  however,  as  to  the  general  posi¬ 
tion  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to  carry  out  and  fulfill 
the  specific  objects  for  which  it  was  created.  Whatever  is 
necessary  to  secure  the  great  ends  for  which  it  exists , — 
whatever  is  necessary  for  the  highest  good  of  all ,  —  this  it 
has  the  right  to  do,  and  ought  to  do.  This  is  a  duty 
which  it  owes  to  the  whole,  and  to  each  individual. 

General  Sphere  of  State  Authority.  —  Within  the  lim¬ 
its  now  specified,  the  authority  of  the  state  is  complete  and 
supreme.  So  far  as  the  constitution  allows,  and  the  public 
good  requires,  it  may  coerce,  restrain,  and  punish ;  may 
impose  taxes;  regulate  the  tenure  and  transmission  of 
property ;  promote  industry,  education,  religion ;  declare 


284 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


war ;  personally,  it  may,  in  all  suitable  ways,  secure  to 
each  citizen  the  enjoyment  of  the  highest  freedom  consist¬ 
ent  with  the  freedom  and  rights  of  others.  These,  in 
general,  are  its  rights  and  duties. 

Beyond  the  limits  now  indicated,  the  state  is  out  of  its 
proper  sphere.  It  has  to  do  with  its  subjects,  not  as  men, 
but  as  citizens.  Its  end  and  aim,  as  a  state,  are  single, — 
that  is,  to  secure  the  liberty  and  the  rights  of  all  its  mem¬ 
bers.  It  is  wholly  a  political  organization.  With  the  in¬ 
tellectual  elevation  and  culture,  the  moral  character,  the 
religious  opinions,  the  personal  prosperity  and  happiness 
of  its  subjects,  —  except  so  far  as  these  are  related  to  the 
one  specific  end,  the  civil  liberty  and  rights  of  the  whole, — 
it  has  no  direct  concern.  It  desires  and  promotes  all  these 
things,  not  as  ends,  but  only  as  means  to  an  end.  As 
such,  they  come  properly  within  its  cognizance,  and  are  of 
the  highest  moment  in  its  councils  and  consideration. 

Even  within  these  limits  the  state  has  no  right  to 
demand  impossibilities ;  nor  yet,  in  securing  its  object,  to 
legislate  against  the  principles  of  moral  right,  or  against 
the  known  will  of  God.  When  it  oversteps,  or  comes  into 
collision  with  these  immutable  and  eternal  principles,  its 
authority  ceases,  its  sceptre  is  broken  —  the  sword  is 
stricken  from  its  hand,  and  the  crown  from  its  brow. 

We  shall  obtain  a  clearer  and  more  definite  view  of  the 
proper  duties  of  the  state  with  respect  to  its  own  rights,  if 
we  consider  specifically  some  of  the  more  important  ob¬ 
jects  which  fall  directly,  or  indirectly,  within  its  sphere  of 
action,  —  among  which  may  be  included  right  of  taxation  ; 
prohibitory  laws ;  personal  freedom  of  thought,  speech,  and 
action;  prevention  and  punishment  of  crime  ;  promotion  of 
industry,  in  its  various  branches;  education,  and  religion. 

1.  Taxes.  —  It  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to  sustain  itself, 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


285 


and  to  take  whatever  measures  are  necessary  in  order  to 
this.  For  this  purpose,  it  has  the  right  to  impose  taxes  and 
imposts,  so  far  as  may  he  necessary  for  its  own  support. 
The  manner  in  which  its  revenues  shall  be  raised,  whether 
by  direct  tax,  or  by  a  system  of  duties  on  exports,  or  on 
imports,  or  in  any  other  mode,  and  also  the  amount  of  reve¬ 
nue  that  shall  be  thus  granted,  are  matters  which  may  be 
safely  left  to  the  wisdom  and  discretion  of  each  state  to 
determine  for  itself.  In  no  case,  however,  has  the  state  a 
right  to  levy  taxes  that  are  oppressive  and  severe,  or  to 
distribute  the  burden  of  them  unequally  and  unjustly  upon 
any  class  or  portion  of  the  community.  The  tax  ought, 
moreover,  to  be  strictly  for  public,  and  not  for  private  ends; 
and  the  persons  thus  taxed  have  the  right  to  be  in  some 
way  represented  in  the  state.  In  the  case  of  non-residents, 
or  foreigners,  and  also  of  widows,  and  unmarried  women 
possessing  property  within  the  state,  the  tax  may  perhaps 
be  justly  required,  without  such  representation,  on  the 
ground  of  a  fair  equivalent  for  the  protection  of  the 
property. 

2.  Prohibitory  Laws.  —  It  is  the  duty  of  the  state  to 
prohibit  and  prevent  whatever  is  injurious  to  the  public 
welfare,  whether  directly,  as  affecting  the  civil  rights  and 
liberties,  or  indirectly,  as  affecting  the  health,  morals,  or 
lives  of  the  community.  Its  office  is  to  guard  all  these  in¬ 
terests  and  rights  against  encroachment ;  and  in  order  to 
this,  it  must,  if  needful,  enact  and  enforce  laws  prohibitory 
and  sanitary.  No  member  of  society  has  a  right  to  pursue 
any  calling  or  profession,  or  make  any  use  of  his  property, 
that  shall  put  in  jeopardy  the  safety,  the  property,  the  lives, 
of  others.  Neither  his  property,  nor  even  his  life,  is  his 
own  in  any  such  sense  as  that ;  and  when,  disregarding  the 
rights  and  interests  of  others,  he  persists  in  that  which  is 


286 


DUTIES  OF  TIIE  STATE 


to  the  common  injury,  the  state,  through  its  proper  officers, 
may  and  ought  to  restrain  him.  This  extends  to  all 
branches  of  manufacture  and  of  trade  that  may  be  of  hurt¬ 
ful  tendency;  to  gaming-houses,  and  all  establishments  ’ 
of  vice  and  dissipation  ;  to  immoral  publications  ;  to  what¬ 
ever  is  injurious  to  public  peace  and  virtue  —  to  the  health, 
happiness,  and  freedom  of  society.  It  embraces,  also,  such 
laws  and  regulations  as  may  be  for  the  health  and  safety  of 
town  or  city  in  time  of  pestilence  or  prevailing  disease. 
All  these  are  matters  of  the  highest  importance  to  the 
public  good,  and  they  are  of  such  a  nature  as  to  require 
the  attention  and  energy  of  the  public  authorities. 
Merely  private  effort  cannot  accomplish,  in  most  cases,  the 
end  that  is  desired.  Even  if  individuals  of  sufficient  be¬ 
nevolence  and  wisdom  could  be  found  to  undertake  such 
measures,  private  interests  would  almost  inevitably  come 
into  collision  with  any  plans  they  might  adopt.  The  strong 
arm  and  authority  of  the  state  are  necessary  in  all  such 
undertakings. 

3.  Personal  Freedom.  —  The  state  ought  to  leave  the 
individual  free  to  do  anything  hot  inconsistent  with  the 
general  good.  It  ought  not  only  to  abstain  in  its  own 
transactions  from  whatever  would  interfere  with  this  free¬ 
dom  of  the  citizen,  but  it  ought  to  secure  to  him  this 
freedom,  and  protect  him  in  it,  so  far  as  regards  his  rela¬ 
tion  to  other  persons.  It  has  no  right  to  deprive  him,  or  to 
allow  him  to  be  deprived  by  others,  of  personal  liberty, 
unless  for  crime,  or  insanity,  or  the  like  cause,  which  would 
render  his  going  at  large  dangerous  to  the  community. 

On  the  same  principle,  it  ought  not  to  deprive  him  of  the 
privilege  of  laboring  at  whatever  honest  employment  or 
profession  he  chooses  ;  nor  to  throw  obstacles  in  the  way 
of  his  changing  his  trade  or  profession,  if  he  is  disposed  to 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


287 


try  some  other.  These  are  matters  which  should  be  left 
open  to  the  choice  of  the  citizen,  and  with  which  govern¬ 
ment  has  no  right  to  interfere. 

Nor  has  the  state  a  right  to  prevent  the  citizen  from 
changing  his  place  of  residence,  or  even  to  throw  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  his  leaving  the  country  altogether,  and 
migrating  to  some  other  land,  if  he  sees  fit.  This  power 
is  exercised  by  many  of  the  arbitrary  governments  of  the 
Old  World,  but  it  is  a  despotic  and  unjust  power.  The 
state  has  no  right  to  say  to  its  subjects,  “You  must  live 
here,  and  not  elsewhere.” 

The  law  of  personal  liberty  applies  also  to  freedom  of 
speech,  and  of  the  press.  These  are  undoubted  rights  of 
the  citizen  within  the  limits  already  indicated.  I  have  no 
right,  indeed,  to  say  or  to  publish  that  which  will  be  to  the 
injury  of  others,  in  respect  to  business,  social  standing,  or 
moral  character;  and  whatever  of  -this  sort  one  is  disposed 
to  utter,  or  to  print,  that  shall  tend  to  the  public  detriment, 
it  is  the  duty  of  the  civil  authority  to  forbid  and  prevent 
the  same.  Aside  from  this  necessary  restriction,  it  is  the 
duty  of  the  state  to  ensure  and  maintain  the  utmost  liberty 
of  thought,  speech,  and  action,  to  its  subjects. 

4.  Encouragement  of  Industry.  —  It  is  the  duty  of 
the  state  to  foster  and  encourage  every  branch  of  honest 
industry.  Much  may  be  done  by  the  public  authority  to 
this  end.  Agriculture,  commerce,  manufactures,  the  me¬ 
chanic  and  the  liberal  arts,  —  every  pursuit,  indeed,  in  which 
men  engage,  may  be  materially  aided,  or  seriously  embar¬ 
rassed,  by  the  action  of  government.  Wise  or  unwise  legis¬ 
lation  has  much  to  do  with  the  prosperity  of  the  country 
in  all  branches  of  industry.  It  is  the  duty  of  government, 
by  all  suitable  and  proper  methods,  to  encourage  and  aid 
every  industrial  pursuit  which  is  not  clearly  incompatible 


288 


DUTIES  OF  TIIE  STATE 


with  the  public  welfare.  It  should,  at  least,  throw  no  ob¬ 
stacles  in  the  way  of  an  honest  calling.  It  ought  to  admin¬ 
ister  its  affairs  with  impartial  and  even-handed  justice, 
toward  all  sections  of  the  country,  and  all  the  various  pur-  * 
suits  and  conflicting  interests  of  the  same,  favoring  no  one 
at  the  expense  of  the  others  ;  but,  by  wise  and  impartial 
legislation,  extending,  so  far  as  possible,  to  all,  the  utmost 
facilities  and  encouragements.  It  should  never  interfere 
with  private  enterprise,  nor  seek  to  turn  the  trade  and  in¬ 
dustry  of  the  country  in  any  other  than  the  natural  chan- 
nels,  for  political  or  party  purposes.  In  all  such  measures 
and  attempts,  it  is  clearly  out  of  its  proper  sphere. 

There  are,  moreover,  certain  great  public  improvements, 
which  cannot  well  be  carried  on  by  individual  enterprise, 
and  which,  therefore,  require  the  aid  of  government.  Har¬ 
bors  may  be  improved,  light-houses  constructed,  rivers 
rendered  navigable,  and  various  works  of  great  public 
benefit  be  set  on  foot,  which  would  be  either  too  arduous, 
or  two  little  remunerative,  for  private  capital  and  enterprise 
to  undertake.  It  is  maintained,  however,  by  many,  and 
apparently  with  justice,  that  in  no  case  ought  works  of 
this  character  to  be  undertaken  by  the  state,  where  private 
or  corporate  action  is  available ;  inasmuch  as  the  public 
resources  may  be  more  profitably  employed  in  other  ways; 
and  inasmuch,  also,  as  these  very  enterprises,  when  not  too 
arduous  to  be  undertaken  by  private  capitalists,  will  be 
much  more  economically  managed  by  individual  enterprise 
than  by  the  state. 

5.  Prevention  and  Punishment  of  Crime.  —  This 
is  one  of  the  most  important  duties  devolving  upon  the 
state.  Whether  we  regard  civil  government  as  founded 
in  expediency,  or  the  divine  will,  or  in  social  compact,  or 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


289 


as  resting  on  all  these  combined,  in  either  case  there  rests 
upon  it,  as  a  first  and  most  imperative  obligation,  the  duty 
of  protecting  its  subjects  against  the  lawlessness  and  vio¬ 
lence  that  would  otherwise  endanger  person,  property, 
and  life.  This  is  one  of  the  chief  objects  to  be  secured 
by  the  institution  of  civil  government  —  one  of  the  chief 
ends  for  which  it  exists.  For  this  purpose  laws  are  en¬ 
acted,  specifying  and  forbidding  all  violation  of  the  rights 
of  others.  Whatever  is  thus  forbidden,  becomes,  in  the 
eye  of  the  law,  a  crime.  But  law  without  sanctions  or 
penalties  annexed,  is  no  law,  but  only  counsel,  and  more 
or  less  plausible  advice.  It  becomes  law  only  when,  in 
addition  to  the  precept,  there  is  affixed  a  penalty  for  trans¬ 
gression.  And  the  value  of  the  law  depends  mainly  on 
two  things,  —  its  inherent  rightness  or  justice  as  precept 
or  prohibition,  and  also  the  firmness  and  certainty  with 
which  its  sanctions  are  enforced.  If  either  of  these  con¬ 
ditions  fail,  it  becomes  a  virtual  nullity. 

To  call  in  question,  then,  the  right  of  government  to 
punish  crime,  is  virtually  to  call  in  question  its  right  to 
exist.  Take  away  this,  and  society  relapses  into  barba¬ 
rism  —  every  man  taking  the  defence  of  his  rights  into  his 
own  hand. 

But,  aside  from  the  general  view  now  presented,  there 
are  two  or  three  points  requiring  more  particular  consid¬ 
eration,  such  as  the  proper  end  of  punishment,  its  proper 
mode  and  degree  of  severity ,  and  the  amount  of  evidence 
necessary  to  convict  of  crime. 

End  of  Punishment .  —  And  first,  as  to  the  proper  end 
of  human  punishment.  What  is  the  object  in  view,  in 
the  infliction  of  punishment  for  crime  ?  Is  it  the  satisfac¬ 
tion  of  justice,  which  demands  the  punishment  of  the 
offender  as,  in  some  sense,  a  compensation  for  the  crime  ? 

25 


290 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


Or,  is  it  disciplinary,  aiming  at  the  reformation  of  the 
offender?  Or,  is  it  simply  with  a  view  to  prevent  future 
offences,  by  impressing  the  public  mind  with  a  just  and 
salutary  fear  of  the  consequences  of  evil-doing?  Here 
are  three  different  explanations,  or  theories,  of  the  proper 
end  of  human  punishment ;  the  first  makes  it  retributive, 
the  second  reformatory ,  the  third  jweventive. 

At  the  hands  of  a  strictly  righteous  God,  guilt  is  ex¬ 
pected  to  receive,  and  justice  demands  that  it  should 
receive,  punishment ;  and  the  penalty  must  be  in  propor¬ 
tion  to  the  guilt.  Such  penalty,  or  suffering  inflicted  on 
account  of  guilt,  is  termed  retributive. 

It  is  not,  however,  on  this  principle  that  human  gov¬ 
ernments  proceed.  The  object  of  society,  in  the  infliction 
of  punishment,  is  not  to  satisfy  the  abstract  demands  of 
justice  ;  nor  yet  is  it  to  vindicate  the  injured  sovereignty 
of  the  law;  nor  to  make  amends  for  the  mischief  done, — * 
for  that  is  often  irreparable,  and  the  punishment  of  the 
offender  has  no  tendency  to  make  good  the  injury  already 
committed.  Punishment  then,  as  inflicted  by  human  gow 
ernments,  is  not  in  its  nature  retributive . 

Much  less  is  it  reformative  in  its  character  and  design  - 
The  end  for  which  punishment  is  inflicted  is  not  the  re¬ 
pentance  and  reformation  of  the  criminal,  however  desir¬ 
able  that  may  be.  It  is  not  for  this  purpose  that  govern¬ 
ment  exists.  It  has  a  higher  end  than  the  discipline  of 
individuals.  There  are  other  influences  and  institutions 
that  look  to  that,  and  exist  for  that.  Government  has  to 
do,  not  with  the  reformation  and  moral  culture  of  the 
individual,  but  with  the  public  welfare,  and  the  public 
freedom ;  and  these  may  often  require  that  the  benefit  of 
the  individual  who  has  committed  the  crime  should  be 
disregarded,  for  the  sake  of  the  public  benefit.  Imprison¬ 
ment,  confiscation  of  property,  or  death,  may  be  of  no  ben- 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


291 


efit  personally  to  him,  but  quite  the  reverse ;  that  is  not 
the  question ;  there  are  higher  ends  and  interests  to  be 
promoted,  than  his  own  good.  Were  it  otherwise,  the 
more  hardened  and  depraved  the  criminal,  the  less  reason 
for  his  punishment,  since  the  less  prospect  of  his  reforma¬ 
tion.  On  this  principle,  moreover,  our  prisons  and  peni¬ 
tentiaries,  our  courts  of  justice,  and  all  the  machinery  of 
government,  are  but  so  many  benevolent  and  charitable 
institutions,  and  are  to  be  ranked  in  the  same  category 
with  sabbath  schools  and  missionary  operations.  This  is 
certainly  a  very  inadequate  idea  of  the  nature  of  civil 
government,  and  of  the  object  of  legal  sanctions.  Pun¬ 
ishment  is  not  reformative. 

The  simple  reason  why  society  inflicts  punishment  on 
those  who  disturb  its  peace,  is,  that  it  finds  it  necessary  to 
do  so  for  its  own  safety,  in  the  prevention  of  crime.  It 
inflicts  penalty  upon  the  evil-doer,  because  it  has  threat - 
ened  to  do  so.  It  threatens  penalty,  because,  without  such 
•declaration,  law  would  be  inoperative  and  null.  It  makes 
laic ,  because,  without  it,  there  were  no  government,  and 
no  such  thing  as  society.  If  there  be  government  at  all, 
there  must  be  law  ;  if  law,  there  must  be  legal  sanctions  ; 
and  if  sanctions,  then  they  must  be  rigidly  enforced.  The 
same  reasons,  then,  which  make  civil  government  a  neces^ 
sity,  make  punishment  a  necessity,  —  i.  e .,  the  safety  of  the 
community,  and  the  prevention  of  crime. 

Xot  only  is  the  criminal  himself,  or  he  who  is  already 
disposed  to  transgress,  deterred  from  so  doing  by  the.  cer¬ 
tainty  that,  if  detected,  he  will  suffer  the  inevitable  pen¬ 
alty  and  just  desert  of  his  offences,  but  by  every  example 
ot  this  sort  a  salutary  fear  is  awakened  in  other  minds,  by 
perceiving  the  ruinous  consequences  of  a  course  of  crime. 
By  all  such  influences  is  society  the  gainer;  nor  is  it  pos- 


292 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


sible  to  dispense  with  these  influences,  and  still  conserve 
the  peace  and  welfare  of  society. 

Mode  and  Degree  of  Punishment,  —  The  end  for  which 
punishment  is  inflicted  goes  far  to  determine  the  proper 
mode  and  degree  of  its  infliction.  If  the  guilt  of  the 
offender  be  the  motive  for  punishment,  or  the  satisfaction 
of  justice  the  end  in  view,  then  the  punishment  should 
be,  of  course,  in  proportion  to  the  guilt.  The  simple  in¬ 
quiry  that  should  regulate  the  whole  proceeding  should 
be :  what,  and  how  much,  does  the  criminal  deserve  to 
suffer.  And  this  might  seem  to  be  the  just  and  true 
mode  of  procedure.  A  little  observation,  however,  will 
be  sufficient  to  convince  any  one  that  such  is  not  the 
principle  on  which  civil  government  administers  its  penal 
sanctions.  The  most  guilty,  and  those  most  deserving 
of  punishment,  are  not  always  most  severely  punished. 
Reference  is  had,  not  so  much  to  the  degree  of  guilt  in 
the  offender,  as  to  the  nature  of  the  offence,  the  danger 
of  its  repetition,  the  difficulty  of  detecting  and  of  pre¬ 
venting  it,  and  the  like  circumstances.  The  man  who 
betrays  a  solemn  trust  confided  to  him,  or  who  habitually 
exercises  unkindness  and  severity  in  his  family  govern¬ 
ment,  or  who  refuses  an  act  of  benevolence,  to  save  hu¬ 
man  life,  or  to  relieve  human  suffering,  may  be  really  more 
guilty,  or  more  deserving  of  punishment,  so  far  as  strict 
justice  is  concerned,  than  he  who  counterfeits  a  bank  note, 
or  steals  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger.  But  for  the 
former,  law  has  no  penalty ;  for  the  latter,  a  severe  one. 

The  facility  with  which  any  crime  may  be  committed, 
and  the  consequent  difficulty,  and  at  the  same  time  neces¬ 
sity,  of  preventing  it,  are  the  considerations  chiefly  in  view 
in  the  regulation  and  distribution  of  punishment.  The 
end  of  human  government,  of  law,  and  of  penal  sane- 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


293 


tions  being  one  and  the  same,  —  i.  e .,  the  protection  of  tlie 
community,  and  the  prevention  of  crime,  —  whatever  tends 
most  directly  to  this  end,  is  the  measure  most  likely  to  be 
adopted,  and  that  rightly.  If  the  end  can  be  accomplished, 
that  is,  the  crime  prevented  and  society  protected,  by  some 
other  means  than  by  the  punishment  of  the  offender,  then 
punishment  may  be  dispensed  with,  notwithstanding  the 
guilt  and  ill-desert  of  the  offender  in  a  moral  point  of 
view.  If  the  offence  be  one  liable  to  occur  at  any  time, 
difficult  of  detection  and  of  proof,  and  yet  of  great  mis¬ 
chief  to  society,  punishment  becomes  necessary  as  a  means 
of  prevention ;  and  the  punishment  must  be  more  or  less 
severe,  according  as  more  or  less  may  be  required  in  order 
to  effect  this  end.  Thus,  by  the  laws  of  some  countries, 
the  stealing  of  a  sheep,  or  a  horse,  is  punished  with  death 
—  not  because  these  crimes  are  considered  as  involving 
equal  guilt  with  that  of  murder,  but  because,  on  account 

of  the  ease  with  which  these  and  the  like  offences  can  be 

_ ■  * 

committed  and  concealed,  nothing  short  of  the  severest 
penalties  seemed  sufficient  to  deter  the  evil-minded  from 
their  commission.  This  disproportion  between  the  degree 
of  punishment  and  the  degree  of  ill-desert,  is,  perhaps, 
a  necessary  part  of  the  imperfection  of  all  human  govern¬ 
ments.  The  supreme  and  omniscient  Ruler  and  Judge, 
whose  eye  penetrates  the  darkest  recesses  of  guilt,  from 
whose  vigilance  nothing  can  escape,  and  whose  justice 
will  bring  to  certain  punishment  whatever  crime  is  com¬ 
mitted,  may,  and  will,  doubtless,  graduate  that  punish¬ 
ment  according  to  the  real  guilt  of  the  criminal.  But  no 
human  government  can  do  this. 

Frequency  of  Punishment.  —  As  to  the  frequency  with 
which  the  severest  punishments  —  as,  for  example,  capital 
punishment,  or  imprisonment  for  life,  at  hard  labor  or  in 

25* 


294 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


solitude  —  should  be  employed,  there  is  room  for  ques¬ 
tion.  It  is  a  matter  of  expediency,  and  must  be  deter¬ 
mined  by  careful  observation.  Beyond  doubt,  the  severest 
penalties  are  fully  within  the  power  of  civil  government, 
and  may  be  justly  and  rightly  called  into  requisition, 
whenever  they  are  necessary  for  the  true  purposes  of 
government,  —  that  is,  for  the  safety  and  welfare  of  the 
state.  The  laws  of  many  countries  —  of  England,  for 
example  —  seem  to  me  to  have  erred,  by  the  too  fre¬ 
quent  use  of  the  severest  penalties;  on  the  other  hand, 
our  own  may  not  improbably  have  erred  in  the  other 
extreme.  In  the  words  of  Dr.  Hickok  :  “  Life  itself  is 

not  so  sacred  as  that  for  which  life  is  given ;  and  if  the 
opportunity  to  attain  the  ends  of  human  life  cannot  be 
maintained  but  by  the  infliction  of  death  upon  such  as 
disturb  it,  the  state  is  bound,  by  its  mission  to  human¬ 
ity,  to  inflict  that  extreme  penalty.  If  the  state  refuse  to 
do  this  when  the  public  sentiment  demands  it,  the  pop¬ 
ulace,  in  its  frenzy,  under  the  excitement  of  some  fresh 
deed  of  cruelty  and  blood,  will  take  the  work  into  its 
own  hands,  and  summarily  despatch  the  obnoxious  mal¬ 
efactor.  It  may  be  argued  that  summary  punishments 
tend  to  make  the  people  barbarous;  but,  in  the  one  crime 
of  murder,  it  is  a  more  important  and  probable  opinion 
that  a  disuse  of  capital  punishment  will  directly  tend  to 
demoralize  the  public.  The  conviction  that  the  murderer 
deserves  to  die,  must  be  met  by  the  civil  sanction,  or  the 
very  teachings  and  influence  of  the  law  will  be  to  lower 
the  standard  of  pure  morality,  and  deprave  the  public 
sentiment,  by  making  the  life  of  man  less  sacred  in  the 
statute-book  than  it  is  in  the  natural  conscience.” 


Evidence  Necessary  to  Conviction .  —  It  becomes  a  seri¬ 
ous,  and  often  a  difficult  question,  what  amount  of  evidence 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


295 


is  requisite  to  conviction.  On  the  one  hand,  there  is  the 
danger  that,  by  the  mistake  or  dishonesty  of  the  witness, 
or  the  prejudice  of  the  juror,  the  innocent  may  be  pun¬ 
ished  in  place  of  the  guilty ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  equal, 
or  even  greater  danger,  that,  by  some  flaw  in  the  evidence, 
or  some  artifice  of  the  pleader,  the  criminal,  of  whose  guilt 
there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  in  the  mind  of  judge  or 
jury,  shall  be  turned  loose  upon  society,  and  thus  the  real 
power  and  proper  office  of  justice  be  thwarted. 

It  is  ever  to  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  prevention  of 
crime  depends  not  so  much  on  the  severity,  as  on  the  cer¬ 
tainty  of  punishment.  The  laws  of  England,  for  example, 
which  prescribe  the  penalty  of  death  for  a  great  number 
of  offences,  but  actually  inflict  it  on  but  a  small  portion  of 
the  number,  seem  but  poorly  calculated  for  the  prevention 
of  crime,  inasmuch  as  the  criminal  presumes,  in  the  first 
place,  —  in  common  with  most  of  those  who  meditate  any 
violation  of  the  laws,  —  that  he  shall  not  be  detected;  and 
then,  that,  if  detected,  the  extreme  penalty  will  in  his  case 
be  remitted,  as  it  has  already  been  in  so  many  others,  and 
some  milder  punishment  substituted  in  its  place.  Were 
that  milder  penalty  threatened  in  the  first  instance,  and 
then  invariably  executed,  the  certainty  of  the  result  would 
probably  be  more  effective  than  the  present  uncertainty  of 
a  much  more  severe  infliction. 

Now,  nothing  tends  so  directly  to  destroy  all  certainty 
of  punishment,  as  any  difficulty  attending  the  conviction 
of  the  guilty.  Whatever  stands  in  the  way  of  the  convic¬ 
tion  of  the  criminal,  stands  in  the  way  of  his  punishment. 
If  such  an  amount  of  evidence  is  required,  in  order  to  con¬ 
viction,  as  shall  in  most  cases  be  impossible,  or  next  to 
impossible,  to  procure,  the  effect  is  the  same  as  if  the  law, 
with  its  penalties,  were  blotted  from  the  statute-book,  and 
society  left  unprotected  against  crime. 


296 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


Viewed  in  this  aspect,  it  admits  of  serious  question, 
whether,  in  our  anxiety  to  avoid  the  infliction  of  unjust 
punishment,  we  have  not,  in  this  country,  carried  to  a  dan¬ 
gerous  extreme  the  doctrine  that  the  accused  is  entitled 
to  the  benefit  of  any  and  every  reasonable  doubt  of  his 
guilt. 

There  are  very  few,  if  indeed  there  are  any  cases,  prob¬ 
ably,  in  which  the  proof  of  guilt  is  so  clear,  and  perfectly 
conclusive,  as  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt  in  the  mind  of 
any  one  ;  and  yet,  if  any  one  of  twelve  men  entertains  such 
doubt,  however  slight  and  unfounded  it  may  be  in  reality, 
conviction  becomes  impossible.  Even  in  the  case  of  posi¬ 
tive  testimony,  setting  aside  all  circumstantial  evidence,  as 
being  still  more  open  to  objection,  there  will  always  be 
more  or  less  possibility  of  mistake,  and  even  of  dishonesty, 
on  the  part  of  the  witness.  Circumstances  are,  in  fact, 
often  the  best  and  most  reliable  witnesses.  But  neither 
circumstantial,  nor  yet  positive  testimony,  can,  in  most 
cases,  be  wholly  beyond  doubt ;  and  it  is  in  the  power  of 
a  skillful  pleader,  —  more  anxious  to  save  his  client  than  to 
secure  the  ends  of  justice,  —  by  giving  prominence  to  any 
slight  defect  in  the  chain  of  evidence,  and  by  appealing 
to  the  conscientious  scruples  of  the  jury,  and  representing 
in  the  strongest  light  the  painful  responsibility  they  will 
incur,  if,  by  any  mistake,  they  should  convict  and  condemn 
an  innocent  man,  —  it  is  in  the  power  of  a  skillful  advocate 
to  so  play  in  this  manner  upon  the  fears  and  the  scruples 
of  his  hearers,  as  to  secure  the  acquittal  of  those  most 
deserving  of  punishment,  and  of  whose  guilt  there  can  be 
really  no  reasonable  doubt.  Just  in  proportion  as  this 
takes  place,  the  security  of  life  and  property,  and  whatever 
else  is  valuable  in  the  community,  is  destroyed,  and  society 
is  thrown  back  into  a  state  of  lawlessness  and  barbarism. 

But,  is  it  not  better  that  nine  guilty  men  should  escaj>e, 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


297 


than  that  one  innocent  man  should  suffer?  Of  this  I  am 
not  so  sure.  Better  for  the  guilty,  very  possibly,  it  may  be  ; 
whether  it  is  better  for  society ,  admits  of  serious  question. 
It  may  be  better  that  now  and  then  an  innocent  man  suffer, 
than  that  the  guilty  should  generally  go  unpunished.  The 
question  amounts  virtually  to  this:  whether,  as  respects 
the  greatest  crimes,  it  is  better  to  have  any  law,  and  any 
penalty,  or  to  leave  society  to  take  care  of  itself,  in  the 
best  way  it  can,  without  any  such  safeguards. 

6.  Education.  —  What  is  the  duty  of  the  state  as  re¬ 
gards  the  education  of  its  subjects?  We  have  already 
seen  that  the  state,  as  such,  is  directly  concerned  only  with 
the  civil  rights  and  privileges  of  the  subject,  and  not  with 
his  intellectual,  moral,  or  religious  character;  and  that  it 
has  to  do  with  these  latter  only  in  so  far  as  they  may  bear 
upon  the  former,  by  making  the  man  a  better  citizen  and  a 
better  subject.  So  intimate,  however,  and  so  important  is 
this  connection,  that  it  can  be  by  no  means  overlooked.  It 
is  impossible  that  the  state  should  reach  its  highest  point 
of  prosperity,  should  realize  the  true  idea  of  a  free  and 
noble  state,  without  intelligence  and  virtue  in  the  commu¬ 
nity.  In  proportion  to  the  education  and  general  intelli¬ 
gence  of  the  people,  in  connection  with  their  moral  and 
religious  culture,  will  be  the  amount  of  liberty  enjoyed ; 
because  in  this  proportion  will  be  their  ability  to  under¬ 
stand,  and  their  disposition  to  maintain,  their  rights.  Nei¬ 
ther  an  ignorant  people,  nor  yet  an  irreligious  people,  are 
competent  for  self-government.  Hence  the  importance  to 
the  state  of  the  general  diffusion  of  knowledge  among  the 
people,  and  of  some  system  of  education  looking  to  this 
end.  It  is  almost  a  necessity  of  its  own  existence,  that 
some  system  of  this  kind  should  be  in  successful  operation. 


298 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


Hence  the  right  and  duty  of  the  state  to  take  measures 
for  tliis  purpose. 

But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  should  the  state  trouble  itself 
in  this  matter  ?  Why  may  not  the  business  of  education 
be  safely  left  to  the  voluntary  action  of  the  people,  in  their 
several  communities  ?  This  might  well  be,  I  reply,  in  case 
there  were  already  given  a  people  of  so  much  education 
and  general  intelligence  as  to  feel  the  importance  of  such 
action ;  but  this  is  more  than  can,  in  most  cases,  be  safely 
presumed.  When  education  has  already  done  its  work 
in  the  elevation  of  the  community,  it  may  be  safely  left 
to  such  a  community  to  provide  for  the  intellectual  culture 
and  training  of  those  who  come  after  them.  But  it  is  for 
the  state  to  set  in  operation  the  causes  which  shall  produce 
this  result;  nor  ought  the  state,  under  any  circumstances, 
to  relinquish  all  care  and  control  of  a  matter  so  intimately 
connected  with  its  own  permanence,  and  highest  pros¬ 
perity. 

Different  Methods  of  Accomplishing  this.  —  The  man¬ 
ner  in  which  this  object  can  best  be  accomplished,  will  vary, 
doubtless,  in  different  states,  and,  to  some  extent,  in  the 
same  state,  in  different  stages  of  its  progress.  In  all  cases 
it  should  be  a  systematic  and  thorough,  rather  than  any 
desultory  and  superficial  system  of  measures.  Means 
should  be  provided  for  the  education,  and  the  thorough 
education,  of  all  classes  of  the  community  —  the  poor,  as 
well  as  the  rich  —  in  at  least  the  common  and  most  indis¬ 
pensable  branches  of  learning.  In  addition  to  this,  col¬ 
leges,  and  other  institutions  of  a  higher  grade,  should  be 
encouraged,  and,  if  necessary,  supported  for  a  time,  by  the 
state. 

In  order  to  provide  and  put  in  operation  such  a  system 
of  general  education,  the  state  has  the  right  to  expend  the 
public  money,  or  to  levy  a  direct  tax  for  the  purpose  on 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


299 


those  who  are  to  receive  the  benefit,  or  to  make  it  obliga¬ 
tory  on  each  separate  community  to  provide  for  itself  the 
requisite  means  for  sustaining  the  needed  schools  within 
its  limits ;  and  whichever  mode  be  adopted,  the  public  has 
no  right  to  complain,  or  to  refuse  consent  and  hearty 
cooperation.  The  state  has  the  right,  also,  to  at  least  a 
general  supervision  and  control  of  the  whole  educational 
movement,  and  of  each  institution  or  school  founded  under 
its  care  and  patronage ;  it  is  entitled  to  a  voice  in  the 
selection  of  teachers,  and  of  books,  and  in  the  general 
management  and  course  of  instruction.  It  has  also  the 
right  to  require  attendance  upon  the  means  provided, 
W’hen,  from  the  ignorance  or  prejudice  of  the  community, 
or  from  any  other  cause,  the  advantages  thus  offered  are 
not  likely  to  be  improved. 

Possible  Disagreement .  —  In  thus  regulating  the  order 
and  course  of  instruction  of  its  schools,  the  state  may  find 
itself  sometimes  in  collision  with  individual  opinions,  and 
prejudices,  in  matters  of  religious  belief.  One  man,  of  pe¬ 
culiar  views,  may  object  to  the  recognition  of  the  Divine 
Being  in  the  ordinary  devotional  exercises  of  the  school,  • 
or  in  any  of  its  teachings;  another,  to  the  use  of  the 
sacred  Scriptures  in  any  form ;  another  still,  to  the  Protes¬ 
tant  version  of  the  same.  In  the  solution  of  all  such  diffi¬ 
culties,  but  one  rule  can  be  recognized.  The  state , — that  is, 
the  body  of  the  people, —  acting  tlfrough  its  constituted 
authorities,  has  the  right  to  decide  all  such  matters.  If 
the  state  be  Infidel,  it  has  the  right  to  exclude  all  religious 
teachings,  and  all  reference  to  the  Supreme  Being,  from  its 
schools;  if  it  be  Catholic,  it  may  shape  its  educational 
system  accordingly;  if  Jewish  or  Mohammedan,  it  has 
still  the  same  right ;  if  it  be  none  of  these,  but  Protestant, 
it  has  the  right  to  use  Protestant  forms,  and  Protestant 
books,  and  inculcate,  so  far  as  it  chooses,  Protestant  notions, 


300 


DUTIES  OF  HIE  STATE 


in  its  various  educational  establishments.  It  is  the  duty 
of  the  individual,  in  such  cases,  to  yield  to  the  will  of  the 
majority ;  or  if  he  cannot  conscientiously  fall  in  with  the 
prescribed  order,  and  with  the  customs  of  those  around 
him,  in  such  matters,  he  should  peaceably  withdraw  from 
all  participation  in  the  system ;  and  this  he  should  always 
be  allowed  to  do.  But  nothing  is  more  absurd,  or  contra¬ 
dictory  to  the  whole  spirit  and  theory  of  civil  government, 
than  that  a  small  minority,  often  a  mere  handful  in  the 
state,  should  undertake  to  dictate  to  the  whole  people  in 
such  matters ;  and  no  state  that  has  a  proper  regard  for  its 
own  dignity,  or  any  just  conception  of  its  rights  and 
duties,  will  for  a  moment  allow  any  such  interference 
with  its  own  proper  prerogative. 

7.  Religion. —  The  duty  of  the  state  with  respect  to 
the  moral  and  religious  condition  of  its  subjects,  is  a  mat¬ 
ter  of  much  moment,  and  of  some  considerable  difficulty. 
Man  is  not  only  a  political,  but  also  a  religious  being; 
that  is,  lie  lias  a  moral  nature,  as  well  as  a  social  and  polit¬ 
ical  one ;  has  hopes,  and  fears,  and  motives  of  action,  drawn 
from  this  source ;  and  these  are  often  the  strongest  and 
most  active  principles  of  his  nature.  A  man  entirely  unin¬ 
fluenced  by  religious  considerations  is  a  man  who  does 
violence  to  his  own  nature,  or  else  that  nature  is  entirely 
and  sadly  perverted. 

In  what  relation,  now,  shall  government  stand  to  its  sub¬ 
jects  in  this  matter?  How  shall  it  treat  their  religious 
convictions  and  beliefs?  What  position  shall  it  assume 
with  respect  to  the  moral  and  religious  character,  the 
moral  and  religious  education  and  training,  of  those  who 
compose  the  state?  Shall  it  show  itself  quite  indifferent 
to  the  whole  matter;  or  shall  it  go  further,  and  oppose  all 
religious  institutions,  and  religious  culture;  or,  knowing 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


801 


how  intimately  its  own  stability  and  prosperity  depend  on 
the  religious  character  and  culture  of  the  people,  shall  it 
set  itself  directly  about  the  business  of  promoting  these, 
by  establishing  religious  institutions,  and  teaching  religi¬ 
ous  truths,  even  as  it  provides  for  the  intellectual  educa¬ 
tion  of  its  subjects?  These  are  questions  of  serious  mo¬ 
ment,  and  not  altogether  easy  of  solution. 

The  matter  is  still  further  complicated  by  the  fact  that 
there  is  frequently  a  great  diversity  of  religious  opinion  and 
belief  among  the  people.  If  there  were  but  one  prevail¬ 
ing  religious  system,  and  the  great  body  of  the  people 
were  united  in  that  form  or  communion,  it  would  greatly 
facilitate  the  decision  of  the  question  before  us.  As  it  is, 
the  community  —  divided  into  many  different  and  often 
rival  religious  sects  —  with  which  of  all  these,  if  with  any, 
shah  the  state  ally  itself?  or  how  can  it  exert  that  influence 
which  it  may  wish  to  exert  in  religious  matters  ?  how  can 
it,  as  a  state,  possess  any  religious  character  whatever,  and 
not  ally  itself  with  some  particular  form  and  system,  with 
some  one  church  or  sect  ? 

Different  Courses  possible .  —  Evidently  there  are  three 
different  courses  of  procedure  possible  to  the  state  in  this 
matter;  —  that  of  entire  indifference,  or  even  opposition, 
to  all  religious  culture ;  that  of  a  fair  and  impartial  protec¬ 
tion  of  all  religious  sects  and  systems,  without  the  adop¬ 
tion  of  any;  and,  finally,  the  selection  and  establishment 
of  some  one  as  the  state  religion.  Each  of  these  methods 
of  procedure  may  claim  some  advantages;  each,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  liable  to  objections. 

And  first ,  shall  the  state  proclaim  itself  indifferent  to 
all  religious  things,  systems,  and  sects  —  all  effort  for  the 
moral  and  religious  education  of  the  people?  Shall  it 
ignore  all  these  matters,  suffering  them  to  exist,  but  taking 

26 


802 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


no  cognizance  of  them  —  even  as  it  knows  nothing  of  the 

o  o 

private  and  personal  affairs  of  its  citizens,  their  occupation 
and  profession,  their  prosperity  and  failure  in  business, 
their  social  and  domestic  affairs,  with  all  which,  and  a 
thousand  like  matters,  it  has,  as  a  state,  nothing  whatever 
to  do  ? 

It  is  not  possible,  I  reply,  for  the  state  to  be  entirely 
indifferent  to  this  whole  matter.  It  is  of  some  conse¬ 
quence  to  it,  whether  its  subjects  have  any  religious  belief, 
and  religious  character,  or  not ;  whether  they  are  educated 
in  the  knowledge  of  the  highest  and  most  important  of  all 
truths,  or  are  wholly  ignorant  of  them ;  whether  they  be¬ 
lieve  in,  and  worship,  Mohammed,  Brahma,  or  Jehovah,  or 
are  without  any  belief,  and  any  God.  It  cannot  afford  to  be 
wholly  indifferent  to,  and  ignorant  of,  such  matters  as  these. 
Shall  it  provide  for  the  intellectual  education  of  its  peo¬ 
ple,  and  care  nothing  for  their  moral  and  religious  culture? 
Has  the  latter  less  to  do  than  the  former  with  the  vital 
prosperity  of  the  civil  institutions  —  with  the  very  founda¬ 
tions  of  their  permanence  and  their  strength? 

Nor  can  the  state  be  itself  wholly  without  a  religion. 
Its  own  highest  ends  cannot  be  secured  without  direct  ap¬ 
peal  to  the  religious  sentiment,  and  the  moral  nature  of 
man.  It  must  acknowledge  a  personal  God,  a  future  state, 
and  retribution  hereafter  for  the  sins  of  this  life,  or  it  can¬ 
not  even  administer  an  oath.  It  must,  by  its  public  acts, 
recognize  this  God  as  a  proper  object  of  worship;  author¬ 
ize  such  homage  as  is  suitable  to  him  on  special  occasions ; 
and  honor,  in  its  official  capacity,  the  sacred  days,  and 
sacred  writings.  “No  civil  government,”  it  has  been  well 
said,  “can  stand  in  the  neglect  of  all  religion,  and  no  com¬ 
munity  can  maintain  its  freedom  without  a  government 
thus,  in  some  way,  acknowledging  a  religion.” 

It  is  of  the  highest  consequence,  moreover,  that  the  re- 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


303 


ligion  which  the  state  recognizes  should  be  the  true  one; 
since,  although  a  false  religion  may  be  better  than  none, 
the  true  one  is  better  than  either. 

The  state  cannot,  then,  be  indifferent  to  the  religion  of 
its  citizens,  nor  wholly  without  a  religion  of  its  own. 

The  Second  Method . —  Shall  it,  then,  adopt  the  second 
course  ?  Placed  under  a  necessity  of  recognizing  some 
religion,  and  anxious  that  its  subjects  should  cooperate 
with  it,  in  giving  to  the  sanctions  and  sentiments  of  a  pure 
faith  their  full  force  on  the  public  mind  and  conscience, 
shall  it  set  itself,  by  direct  means,  to  propagate  religious 
truth,  by  establishing,  or  taking  under  its  special  patron¬ 
age,  some  one  form  of  religious  belief  and  worship,  mak¬ 
ing  that  the  state  religion  and  the  state  church,  and 
seeking  to  educate  the  people  in  it,  and  through  it,  as  a 
means  of  religious  culture?  Such  a  course  might  seem  to 

o  o 

promise  some  advantages.  It  will  give  definiteness  to  the 
religious  sentiment  and  action  of  the  state.  It  will  enable 
the  state  to  avail  itself  directly  of  the  offices  of  the  minis¬ 
ters  of  religion,  in  any  way  that  it  sees  fit,  as  important 
ends  in  accomplishing  its  purposes.  It  can  shape  to  its 
own  liking  the  moral  and  religious  education  of  the  peo¬ 
ple,  and  secure  a  higher  degree  of  general  religious  culture. 
It  can,  in  a  word,  control,  to  a  greater  extent  than  before, 
and  that  in  various  ways,  the  religious  element  in  society. 

But  then,  again,  is  there  no  danger  from  this  very 
source  ?  Is  it  safe  to  place  in  the  hands  of  the  civil  au¬ 
thority  the  control  of  the  religious  element  in  society ; 
thus  making  the  church,  the  clergy,  the  system  of  reli¬ 
gious  education,  and  the  public  conscience,  subservient 
to  the  designs  of  the  state,  —  so  many  tools,  by  which  it 
can  better  accomplish  its  purposes?  Is  there  no  danger 
that  such  power  will  be  abused  ? 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  such  an  arrangement  will  be  likely 


804 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


to  lead  to  one  or  the  other  of  two  results,  —  either  the 
religious  organization  will  become  the  dominant  power  in 
the  state,  and  freedom  will  suffer;  or  the  civil  authority 
will  predominate,  and  the  religious  element  become  the 
mere  instrument  of  its  policy.  In  the  one  case,  we  shall 
have  a  people  subjected  to  priestly  dictation, —  the  worst 

and  most  oppressive,  because  most  bigoted,  of  all  forms 

•  • 

of  tyranny,  —  in  the  other  case,  a  religion  subject  to  the 
state,  and  thereby  shorn  of  its  inherent  strength  and 
beauty.  The  history  of  religious  establishments  in  all 
ages  verifies  this  supposition.  We  have,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  Romish  Church,  binding  in  chains  the  human 
conscience  and  the  human  will  wherever  it  can  obtain 
ascendency,  and  crushing  all  freedom  of  thought  under 
the  iron  heel  of  an  irresponsible  hierarchy  ;  on  the  other 
hand,  the  religious  establishments  of  Europe,  whether 
Protestant  or  Catholic,  supported  by  the  state,  the  crea¬ 
tures  of  the  civil  power,  and  losing,  in  proportion  as  they 
become  so,  their  hold  upon  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the 
great  mass  of  the  people. 

Farther  Objection .  —  A  further  difficulty  arises,  also, 
from  the  fact  that,  whatever  religion  the  state  may  adopt, 
there  will  always  be,  in  the  state,  many  who  will  not 
sympathize  with  that  peculiar  form  or  system,  but  con¬ 
scientiously  prefer  some  other,  and  who  will  therefore  find 
themselves  arrayed  against  the  state,  in  the  most  sacred 
and  imperative  of  all  obligations.  All,  of  whatever  belief, 
and  whatever  organization  or  sect,  who  do  not  happen  to 
belong  to  that  one  church  which  the  state  has  recognized, 
find  themselves  in  the  position  of  dissenters;  and  these, 
though  each  sect  may  be  small  in  itself,  may  be  in  the  ag¬ 
gregate  the  superior  number,  the  great  body,  indeed,  of 
the  people,  as  regards  both  numbers  and  moral  wealth  and 
force ;  —  but  whether  so  or  not,  equally  entitled  to  their 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


S05 


own  religious  convictions,  and  religious  forms  and  priv¬ 
ileges,  and  to  the  respect  and  support  of  the  state  in  the 
use  and  enjoyment  of  the  same,  as  those  from  whom,  in 
these  matters,  they  are  compelled  to  differ.  Under  such 
circumstances,  the  patronage  of  one  body  by  the  state 
is  injustice  to  all  the  rest. 

By  every  such  instance  of  honest,  conscientious  dissent 
from  the  established  religion  of  the  state,  is  the  moral 
power  of  the  establishment  weakened.  Instead  of  com¬ 
manding  the  sympathy  and  cordial  cooperation  of  all  the 
religious  and  well-disposed  members  of  society,  in  its  ef¬ 
forts  for  the  moral  elevation  of  the  people,  and  the  dis¬ 
semination  of  sacred  truth,  the  state,  however  sincere 
and  earnest  in  such  efforts,  finds  itself  working  at  an 
immense  disadvantage,  as  a  rival  among  opposing  sects. 
And  the  difficulty  will  not  be  diminished,  but  very  greatly 
increased,  if,  forgetful  of  its  true  policy,  the  state  should 
seek  to  coerce  and  restrain  all  these  dissenting  bodies, 
or  even  to  force  them,  by  pains  and  penalties,  into  a  tacit 
subjection,  a  formal  union,  with  itself.  This  is  what  Ilo^ 
manism  has  ever  sought  to  do,  when  it  has  been  the  ac¬ 
knowledged  religion  of  the  state  ;  it  is  what  some  of  the 
Protestant  countries  of  Europe  are  still  striving  to  accom¬ 
plish  ;  it  is  what  Protestant  England  undertook,  under 
Henry  the  Eighth,  Elizabeth,  and  Charles  the  First. 

Third  Method .  —  The  only  practicable  method  would 
seem  to  be,  then,  the  plan  of  toleration  —  protecting  all 
forms  of  religious  belief,  but  adopting  and  establishing  no 
one  of  them,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  rest,  as  the  religion, 
and  the  church  of  the  state.  Every  man  must  be  pro¬ 
tected  in  the  exercise  of  his  religious  convictions,  and  the 
enjoyment  of  his  religious  rights;  every  sect  and  denomi¬ 
nation  of  religious  worshippers,  so  long  as  they  observe 
the  rules  of  propriety  and  decency,  may  justly  claim  such 

26*^ 


806 


DUTIES  OF  THE  STATE 


protection  at  the  hands  of  the  civil  power ;  every  church 
or  religious  organization  may  claim  it,  whether  Christian, 
Jewish,  or  other.  The  state  lias  no  right  to  interfere  in 
this  matter,  and  say  to  its  citizens:  “  You  must  believe 
thus  and  thus  —  you  must  worship  thus  and  thus  —  you 
must  belong  to  this  or  that  religious  denomination,  under 
penalty  of  incurring  the  displeasure  of  government,  or 
of  forfeiting  such  and  such  privileges.”  This  does  not,  as 
some  writers  suppose,  —  Dr.  Whewell  among  others, — 
imply  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the  state,  all  these  various 
churches  and  systems  are  equally  false  or  equally  true, 
equally  advantageous  or  disadvantageous,  to  the  public 
and  the  private  welfare.  It  simply  implies  that  all  have 
just  and  equal  claim  to  protection,  and  that  the  state  has 
no  right  to  interfere  with  a  man’s  private  religious  opin¬ 
ions. 

The  rule  of  universal  toleration,  as  I  have  already  im¬ 
plied,  is  not  absolutely  without  its  limits  and  exceptions. 
Should  the  religious  convictions  and  usages  of  anv  class 
of  men  lead  them  to  outrage  public  sentiment,  by  acts 
indecent,  or  blasphemous,  or  shocking  to  the  common 
sense  and  common  feeling  of  mankind  in  every  civilized 
and  enlightened  country,  the  state  is  under  no  obligation 
to  tolerate  such  outrage.  It  is  under  no  obligation  to 
allow  human  sacrifices,  or  the  bloody  rites  of  paganism; 
the  burning  of  widows  on  the  funeral  pile,  or  the  bar¬ 
barities  of  the  papal  Auto  da  Fe,  and  Inquisition ;  nor 
yet  the  immoralities  and  indecencies  that  have  sometimes 
been  practised  under  the  plea  of  religion  and  conscience. 
The  same  rule  holds  here,  as  in  regard  to  property.  A 
man  is  to  be  protected  in  the  possession  and  enjoyment 
of  his  own,  up  to  the  point  where  he  begins  to  trespass 
upon  the  rights  of  others;  but  not  a  step  beyond  that. 

So,  also,  if  any  religious  sect  or  organization  should  be 


TO  ITS  SUBJECTS. 


307 


found  plotting  against  the  liberties  of  the  state,  or  teach¬ 
ing  doctrines  tending  to  sedition,  and  disaffection  to  right¬ 
ful  authority,  or  undermining  the  public  virtue  and  de¬ 
stroying  the  public  peace  —  these,  as  interests  dear  to  the 
state,  and  essential  to  its  existence,  are  to  be  defended 
against  such  encroachments,  and  the  authors  of  the  mis- 
chief  may  rightly  be  proceeded  against,  as  enemies  of  the 
state. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  state  is  not  to  become  the  pro¬ 
pagandist  of  what  it  may  regard  as  the  true  faith  ;  is  not 
to  become  missionary  abroad,  or  missionary  at  home ;  is 
not  to  plant  churches,  and  institute  theological  schools 
for  the  religious  education  of  the  people.  This  is  not  its 
proper  office.  It  is  not  for  such  things  that  it  exists. 
The  people  must  do  this  ;  the  public  authorities,  as  indi¬ 
viduals,  may  do  it  if  they  choose;  but  the  state,  as  such, 
exists  for  quite  another  purpose,  and  is  out  of  its  true 
province  if  it  undertakes  such  matters. 

This  does  not,  however,  prevent  the  state  from  having 
any  religion  of  its  own,  or  from  being  a  truly  Christian 
state.  It  may  acknowledge  the  general  principles  of 
Christianity,  the  great  truths  of  revelation,  the  existence 
of  God,  the  duty  of  men  to  honor  and  worship  him,  the 
sacredness  of  the  Christian  Sabbath,  the  authority  of  the 
scriptures ;  it  may  admit  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state 
of  rewards  and  punishments,  and  so  the  validity  and  sig¬ 
nificance  of  an  oath.  It  may  hold  and  maintain  all  these 
general  truths  of  natural  and  revealed  religion,  and  pro¬ 
tect  others  in  the  belief  of  the  same,  without  an  estab¬ 
lished  religion,  or  a  state  church. 

Nor  is  there,  as  some  have  contended,  danger  of  irre- 
ligion  and  atheism  from  this  source.  Facts  have  shown 
the  opposite.  In  no  country,  perhaps,  is  the  public  mind 
more  generally  and  more  deeply  imbued  with  the  essen- 


308 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


tial  principles  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  .with  a  regard 
and  reverence  for  religious  things,  than  in  our  own,  where 
these  matters  are  left  entirely  to  the  people ;  and  the 
working  of  the  voluntary  system,  thus  far  at  least,  as 
contrasted  with  the  practical  results  of  the  opposite  sys¬ 
tem  in  the  state  churches  and  established  religions  of  the 
Old  World,  seems  to  point  conclusively  to  this  as  the  true 
and  most  effective  means  of  maintaining  the  institutions, 
and  disseminating  the  truths,  of  the  Christian  religion, 
both  at  home  and  abroad. 


CHAPTER  V. 

DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 

In  the  previous  chapters  our  inquiries  have  been  directed 
to  the  nature  and  foundation  of  civil  government,  the 
duties  of  the  subject  as  regards  the  state,  and  of  the  state 
with  reference  to  the  subject.  It  is  of  importance  to  in¬ 
quire  further  respecting  the  duties  which  one  state,  or 
organized  civil  community,  owes  to  other  states.  And  this 
inquiry  divides  itself  naturally  into  two  parts,  —  the  ethi¬ 
cal  relations  of  the  state  to  other  states  in  general,  and 
the  ethical  relations  of  confederate  and  republican  states 
like  our  own,  to  each  other  in  particular.  These  topics 
will  be  discussed  in  separate  sections. 

§  I.  —  Tiie  General  Relations  and  Duties  of  States  to  each 

other. 

States  have  their  relations  to  other  states,  and  their 
duties  growing  out  of  those  relations,  no  less  than  to  their 
own  subjects;  and  these  duties  are  as  imperative  and  bind- 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


309 


in 2  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  The  state  is  no  more 
free  from  the  law  of  right,  in  its  dealings  with  other  states, 
than  the  individual  in  his  private  dealings  with  other  indi¬ 
viduals.  The  same  general  principles  of  morality,  the 
same  obligations  to  truthfulness,  honesty,  and  honor,  in 
all  engagements,  apply  to  and  bind  the  state,  as  the  in¬ 
dividual. 

But,  while  the  principles  are  the  same,  the  application 
of  them  to  particular  circumstances  may  differ.  The  posi¬ 
tion  of  the  state  is,  in  many  respects,  a  very  different  one 
from  that  of  the  individual,  —  it  has  certain  rights,  and 
duties,  which  do  not,  and  cannot,  belong  to  him.  It  be¬ 
comes  a  matter  of  importance,  then,  to  ascertain  what  are 
the  principles  of  morality  which  apply  to  the  intercourse 
of  state  with  state,  and  how  the  relations  and  duties  of 
each  to  each  are  modified  by  those  principles. 

To  define  specifically  the  rights  and  obligations  of  na¬ 
tions  to  each  other,  is  the  province  of  a  distinct  science, — 
that  of  international  law ,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  the 
lairs  of  nations .  This  science,  however,  has  to  do  rather 
with  the  existing  customs  and  usages  of  nations,  as  matters 
of  fact,  than  with  the  strictly  ethical  bearings  and  relations 
of  the  subject,  —  rather  with  the  what  is,  than  the  wliat 
ought  to  be  ;  while  it  is  rather  with  the  latter,  than  the 
former,  that  Moral  Philosophy  concerns  itself. 

Our  inquiries  will  have  reference  chiefly  to  the  following 
points :  the  rights  and  duties  of  nations  as  regards  their 
general  intercourse ,  —  their  mutual  treaties  and  alliances , 
—  their  wars , —  and  their  jurisdiction, 

1.  General  Intercourse. — There  are  two  principles 
which  should  ever  be  recognized  in  the  intercourse*  of  state 


310 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


with  state  :  That  each  state  is,  in  itself,  sovereign  and  in¬ 
dependent,  and  is  ever  to  be  treated  as  such  ;  and  also, 
That  in  all  their  regulations  and  transactions  with  each 
other,  states,  no  less  than  individuals,  are  to  be  governed 
by  the  simple  and  unalterable  principles  of  morality, — 
a  strict  regard  to  the  true  and  the  right. 

The  sovereignty  of  every  nation  —  its  independent  right 
to  exist  for  itself,  and  to  manage  its  own  concerns  as  it 
pleases,  without  restraint  or  constraint  from  abroad  —  is  one 
of  the  fundamental  principles  of  international  justice.  Any 
people  or  nation,  occupying  a  given  territory,  organized  for 
purposes  of  government,  and  actually  exercising  control 
over  its  own  affairs,  has  an  undoubted  right  to  remain  un¬ 
molested  in  that  control  of  itself,  so  long  as  it  respects  the 
rights  of  other  states.  It  may  be  a  large  or  a  small,  a 
weak  or  a  powerful  state,  in  respect  to  numbers  and  re¬ 
sources  ;  it  may  be  a  monarchy,  or  a  republic ;  it  may 
manage  its  affairs  wisely,  or  foolishly ;  it  may  progress  in 
all  the  arts  and  refinements  of  a  high  civilization,  or  remain 
stationary  in  the  darkness  and  barbarism  of  a  former  age;  — 
it  matters  not  what  may  be  its  condition  in  these  respects, 
it  has  still  the  right  to  be  as  it  likes,  and  do  as  it  likes,  sub¬ 
ject  to  no  interference  or  dictation  from  states  that  maybe 
older,  or  stronger,  or  wiser  and  more  enlightened  than 
itself.  So  long  as  it  is  a  state  at  all,  it  is  a  sovereign  state. 
It  may  be  subdued  by  foreign  conquest,  or  broken  in  pieces 
and  destroyed  by  civil  dissension  ;  —  and  in  that  case  it  is 
no  longer  a  state;  —  but,  so  long  as  it  continues  a  distinct 
nationality,  a  separate  organization,  it  may  claim  the  right 
of  absolute  and  independent  sovereignty.  England,  France, 
the  United  States,  have  no  right  to  dictate  to  China,  or 
Japan,  or  any  other  state,  however  barbarous  its  customs, 
and  however  misguided  its  policy,  what  shall  or  shall 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


311 


not  be  its  general  management,  and  course  of  procedure,, 
as  to  its  own  affairs. 

The  Second  Principle .  —  That  nations  are  to  be  gov* 
erned,  in  all  their  intercourse  with  each  other,  by  the  simple 
and  established  principles  of  morality,  is  too  plain,  and  too 
true  to  require  discussion,  though,  in  fact,  too  often  over¬ 
looked.  Nations  have  no  more  right  than  private  individ¬ 
uals  to  violate  the  essential  principles  of  truth  and  justice. 
They  are  under  the  same  fixed  and  eternal  laws  of  right — - 
they  are  bound  by  the  same  obligations,  that  apply  to  in¬ 
dividual  conduct.  There  is  an  authority  above  them,.  a 
court  of  appeal  to  which  they  are  amenable,  and  by  whose 
ultimate  decision  they  must  abide.  That  public  con¬ 
science,  that  sense  of  right  that  dwells  in  every  bosom, 
and  pronounces  the  verdict  of  universal  approbation  or 
condemnation  on  the  acts  of  nations,  and  the  mandates  of 
kings,  —  itself  but  the  faint  echo  and  reproduction  of  that 
still  higher  and  more  powerful  verdict  of  Him  who  sitteth 
on  the  circle  of  the  heavens,  and  judgeth  the  actions  of 
men,  —  extends  its  authority  and  jurisdiction  over  empires 
as  well  as  individuals,  and  holds  the  mightiest  nations,  no 
less  than  the  humblest  citizen,  subject  to  the  eternal  law 
of  right. 

There  is,  indeed,  no  code  of  written  law,  emanating  from 
an  authorized  legislative  body,  and  enforced  by  an  author¬ 
ized  executive ;  no  legal  penalties  awaiting  transgression  ; 
no  verdict  of  judicial  tribunal  arraigning  the  guilty  nation 
at  its  bar :  yet  is  there  not  the  less  a  law  and  a  tribunal,  a 
verdict  and  a  penalty.  Public  opinion,  and  the  universal 
sense  of  right  that  holds  its  seat  in  every  human  bosom, 
and  constitutes  what  we  may  call  the  conscience  of  the 
race,  are  the  real  judges,  the  real  tribunal.  The  penalty  of 
transgression  is  the  public  condemnation,  and  the  public 


812 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


contempt,  together  with  that  self-degradation  which  evil, 
doins:  never  fails  to  inflict  on  the  transgressor  of  the  laws 

o  o 

of  rioht.  Nor  is  there  wanting  a  still  higher  tribunal. 
The  Supreme  Ruler  of  the  universe  has  his  throne  among 
the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  takes  cognizance  of  their 
crimes.  Individuals  receive  the  just  award  of  their  deeds 
in  the  future  ;  nations  and  states  exist  as  such  only  in  the 
present  world,  and  receive  their  sentence  and  their  punish¬ 
ment  here.  Fearful  is  the  doom  which  awaits,  at  the  hands 
of  a  righteous  Providence,  the  nation  that  sets  itself  against 
the  eternal  laws  of  God. 

I  have  said  there  is  no  written  code,  proceeding  from  an 
authorized  legislature,  and  enforced  with  legal  sanctions, 
by  which  the  nations  are  to  be  governed  in  their  inter¬ 
course  with  each  other ;  for  this  were  to  suppose  some 
positive  authority,  some  nation,  or  ruler  above  the  nations, 
with  power  to  give  and  to  punish  its  violation ;  whereas, 
among  men,  no  such  lawgiver  and  ruler  of  nations  exists. 
Nevertheless,  the  essential  principles  of  right  are  univer¬ 
sally  admitted;  and  by  common  consent,  and  the  practice  of 
nations,  many  laws  and  regulations  have  come,  in  process 
of  time,  to  be  recognized  as  of  authority  in  the  intercourse 
of  nations,  and  have  taken  their  place  as  established  prin¬ 
ciples.  These,  whether  written  or  unwritten,  constitute 
what  are  termed  the  Law  of  Nations ,  or  International 
law. 

Comity  of  Nations.  —  Aside  from  the  two  general  prin¬ 
ciples  now  mentioned  as  regulating  the  intercourse  of  na¬ 
tions,  namely,  that  each  is  sovereign  and  independent,  and 
that  each  is  bound  by  the  ordinary  rules  and  obligations 
of  morality  in  all  its  dealings,  there  is  to  be  taken  into 
account  also  what  we  may  call  the  comity ,  or  courtesy  of 
nations.  The  state  stands  on  the  same  footing  in  this 
respect  with  the  individual  citizen.  It  is  bound  to  treat  all 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


313 


other  states  not  merely  justly  and  honestly,  but  with  court¬ 
esy.  It  must  pay  due  regard  to  the  acknowledged  pro¬ 
prieties  and  usages  of  national  intercourse,  as  regards  the 
forms  of  diplomatic  reception,  the  honors  due  to  the  flags 
of  other  nations,  and  to  their  accredited  ministers,  and 
whatever  of  the  like  kind  common  courtesy  and  common 
usage  require. 

Any  departure  from  these  acknowledged  rules  of  inter¬ 
national  civility,  subjects  a  nation  to  the  same  disgrace, 
among  nations,  which  attaches  to  the  individual  who  is 
guilty  of  insolent  or  unbecoming  behavior  in  polite 
society. 

2.  Mutual  Alliances  and  Treaties.  —  It  is  some¬ 
times  for  the  advantage  of  nations  to  combine,  for  the 
accomplishment  of  an  object  of  common  interest  to  each, — 
as  defence  against  the  encroachments  of  a  formidable 
enemy,  or  the  prosecution  of  scientific  research  and  dis¬ 
covery.  In  such  cases,  the  parties  forming  alliance  enter 
into  league  or  covenant  with  each  other,  pledging  mutual 
assistance  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  objects  specified. 
The  combination  of  the  great  powers  of  Europe  to  put 
down  Napoleon,  and  the  joint  efforts  of  civilized  nations 
for  the  suppression  of  the  slave-trade,  and  of  piracy,  are 
instances  of  such  alliance. 

Treaties  are  contracts,  of  a  more  general  nature,  between 
state  and  state.  A  treaty  of  alliance  is  one  particular  kind 
of  treaty,  or  contract.  A  great  variety  of  specific  objects 
may  be  determined  by  treaty  between  different  nations,  — 
as  the  regulations  of  commerce,  settlement  of  boundaries, 
decision  of  vexed  questions  of  dispute,  and  whatever  con¬ 
cerns  the  peace  and  prosperity  of  either  party. 

The  general  principles  of  ethics  already  specified  as  ap¬ 
plying  to  the  general  intercourse  of  state  with  state,  apply 

27 


814 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


also  and  equally  to  the  matter  of  alliance  and  treaty. 
There  must  be  no  dishonesty  or  fraud,  no  trickery  and 
deception,  no  violation  of  truth  and  justice  and  right. 
Whatever  treaty  or  alliance  is  based  on,  or  involves,  any¬ 
thing  of  this  sort,  however  great  may  seem  to  be  the 
advantage  thereby  accruing  to  either  party,  is  a  treaty  or 
alliance  which  has  no  right  to  be.  No  state  has  a  right  to 
combine  with  other  powers  for  the  injury  or  oppression  of 
any  other  state,  or  to  interfere  with  its  internal  affairs  and 
arrangements.  It  is  the  duty  of  every  state,  no  less  in  its 
alliances  and  treaties  with  foreign  powers,  than  in  its  single 
capacity,  to  respect  the  rights  and  recognize  the  sover¬ 
eignty  of  its  neighbor  states. 

Within  the  lines  now  specified,  —  that  is,  the  lines  of 
honesty  and  strict  integrity,  —  treaties  and  alliances,  once 
formed,  are  binding  on  all  the  parties,  and  have  the  whole 
force  of  law.  It  is  the  duty  of  each  state  scrupulously  to 
observe  all  the  conditions  and  stipulations  of  such  a  con¬ 
tract,  even  to  its  own  detriment ;  and  to  see  to  it  that  its 
citizens  observe  the  same. 

3.  Wars. —  Nations  are,  unfortunately,  sometimes  in¬ 
volved  in  war.  Is  this  ever  justifiable,  and  what  are  the 
ethical,  principles  that  apply  to  such  cases?  A  nation  may 
find  itself  involved  in  conflict  from  either  of  two  sources: 
its  rights  or  territory  may  be  invaded  by  a  force  from 
without ;  or,  its  laws  may  be  trampled  upon,  with  armed 
violence,  by  its  own  citizens.  In  either  case  there  may  be 
a  necessity  for  a  resort  to  arms,  in  order  to  repel  the  inva¬ 
der,  or  to  assert  the  supremacy  of  its  own  statutes.  The 
state  exists  for  the  public  good,  and  is  bound,  so  long  as 
it  exists,  to  carry  out  and  enforce  whatever  measures  may 
be  deemed  essential  to  that  end.  Its  own  laws,  and  its 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


815 


own  rights  must,  therefore,  be  maintained  at  all  hazards, 
and,  if  need  be,  by  force  of  arms,  —  that  is,  by  war. 

In  defence  of  national  freedom,  and  the  public  good, — 
in  the  maintenance  of  law  and  justice,  —  in  the  pro¬ 
tection  of  those  rights  and  interests  which  are  essential 
to  the  welfare,  or  even  the  existence  of  the  state,  —  this 
condition  of  war,  with  all  its  perils  and  inevitable  mis¬ 
eries,  becomes  a  matter  of  necessity  and  of  duty.  It  is 
the  price  which  must  sometimes  be  paid  for  liberty,  and 
for  national  existence.  No  state  is  under  obligation  to 
commit  suicide,  or  to  suffer  itself  to  be  overrun  by  inva¬ 
sion  and  conquest,  and  trampled  out  of  existence  by 
unscrupulous  and  lawless  force,  so  long  as  it  can  resist 
and  repel  this  violence.  Nor  is  the  question  whether  to 
submit,  or  to  resist,  always  one  of  mere  expediency  —  of 
profit  and  loss.  Often  it  rises  higher  than  that,  and  be¬ 
comes  a  question  of  duty  and  solemn  obligation.  The 
state,  existing  for  a  given  purpose,  and  undertaking  to 
accomplish  a  given  end,  is  under  obligation  to  fulfill  its 
engagement,  to  do  what  it  has  promised  and  undertaken 
to  do ;  and  is  ethically  guilty,  if,  having  the  power,  it  fail 
to  protect  its  citizens  in  their  just  and  natural  rights,  and 
guard  the  interests  committed  to  its  keeping.  This  is  a 
duty  demanded  of  it,  not  merely  by  a  regard  to  its  own 
subjects,  and  its  own  interests,  but  also,  in  many  cases, 
by  a  regard  to  the  general  interests  and  welfare  of  other 
states  and  nations. 

Still,  war  should  ever  be  the  last  resort,  —  tried  as  a 
means  of  redress,  only  when  all  other  means  fail  of  ac¬ 
complishing  the  desired  end.  When  protests  and  nego¬ 
tiations  fail,  and  the  appeal  to  justice  and  the  sense  of 
right  in  the  aggressor  has  been  made  in  vain,  and  there 
remains  no  alternative  but  to  yield  or  resist,  —  then,  and 
not  till  then,  may  the  injured  state  draw  the  sword,  and 


316 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


appeal  to  the  God  of  battles,  the  Eternal  Justice,  to  de¬ 
cide  the  controversy. 

According  to  the  view  now  taken,  it  is  evident  that, 
were  all  nations  disposed  to  do  justly,  and  respect  each 
other’s  rights,  war  would  be  quite  unnecessary.  Whenever 
it  occurs,  it  always  implies  and  involves  guilt  in  one  or  both 
the  parties.  It  is  no  slight  responsibility  that  is  thus  incurred. 
That  nation  has  much  to  answer  for  at  the  bar  of  justice 
that  not  only  involves  itself  in  all  the  miseries  of  war,  but 
subjects  another  and  a  peaceable  nation  to  the  dire  neces¬ 
sity  of  sacrificing  its  honor  and  its  interests,  or  of  shedding 
the  blood  of  its  own  sons  in  self-defence. 

Most  of  the  wars  which  ravage  the  earth  and  lay  deso*^ 
late  its  fairest  realms,  might  easily  be  prevented,  were  there 
but  the  disposition  among  nations  to  deal  fairly  and  honor¬ 
ably  by  each  other;  and  even  when  disputes  arise,  and 
questions  of  serious  moment  come  up  for  decision,  the 
necessity  for  the  final  resort  to  arms  might  in  most  cases 
be  obviated,  were  the  matters  in  dispute  submitted  to  the 
judgment  and  arbitration  of  some  friendly  power. 

Hights  of  T Yar.  —  In  ancient  times,  the  distinction  of 
war  and  peace  was  not  very  clearly  defined  among  the 
nations.  The  condition  of  war  was  considered  the  nat¬ 
ural  condition  of  a  state  in  relation  to  other  and  foreign 
states,  —  the  general  rule,  to  which  peace  was  the  excep¬ 
tion  ;  and  that  exception  was  usually  the  result  of  special 
convention  and  contract.  Thus,  in  the  Latin  tongue,  one 
and  the  same  word  denoted  both  a  stranger  and  an  enemy. 
As  the  distinction  in  question  came  to  be  more  clearly 
defined,  and  war  became  a  specific  thing,  in  distinction 
from  the  state  of  universal  hostility  and  piracy,  certain 
rules  came  to  be  recognized,  by  common  usage  and  con¬ 
sent,  as  applicable  to  the  general  conduct  of  nations  at  strife 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


317 


with  each  other;  and  these  were  designated  as  the  rights 
o  f  war .  These  rights  of  war,  among  the  ancients,  partook 
of  much  that  was  savage  and  barbarous  in  their  character, 
in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  time.  They  extended 
to  the  right  of  enslaving,  and  even  of  putting  to  death, 
not  merely  all  prisoners  taken  in  war,  but  even  all  the 
inhabitants  of  a  conquered  country,  without  distinction 
of  combatant  and  non-combatant.  At  the  same  time,  they 
required  the  conqueror  to  allow  the  burial  of  the  slain 
among  the  vanquished ;  and  they  attached  the  utmost 
sacredness  and  inviolability  to  the  office  of  herald,  or  en¬ 
voy,  and  scrupulously  guarded  the  faithful  observance  of 
all  truces  or  treaties  between  the  belligerents. 

In  modern  times,  the  rights  of  war  have  been  divested 
of  much  that  was  savage  and  barbarous  in  their  earlier 
form.  Distinction  is  made  between  those  who  bear  arms, 
and  those  who  do  not,  in  any  community ;  and  it  is  under¬ 
stood  by  all  parties,  that  the  war  is  not  waged  with  women 
and  children,  and  inoffensive,  peaceable  citizens,  but  only 
with  actual  combatants,  —  with  the  army  and  navy,  or  the 
organized  fighting  force  of  the  enemy.  It  is  the  destruc¬ 
tion  of  this  organized  force,  rather  than  the  destruction  of 
human  life,  that  is  the  object  aimed  at.  Hence,  every  act 
of  wanton  cruelty  and  needless  bloodshed  is  branded  as 
worthy  of  reprobation  ;  and  the  prisoner,  once  in  the  hands 
of  his  captors,  is  no  longer  an  enemy,  to  be  slain  or  en¬ 
slaved  at  the  will  of  the  conqueror,  because  no  longer  a 
part  of  that  military  organization  against  which  the  war 
is  waged.  And  so  with  the  ship  that  has  struck  its  flag  to 
the  enemy  in  naval  contest.  In  the  middle  ages,  it  was  the 
custom  of  war  to  spare  the  lives  of  prisoners,  and  set  them 
free  on  payment  of  a  ransom.  Among  modern  nations,  the 
vanquished  soldier  becomes  prisoner  of  war  merely  by 
giving  up  his  arms  and  asking  quarter,  and  obtains  his 

27* 


318 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


liberty  by  exchange  with  the  opposite  party,  or,  some¬ 
times,  where  that  cannot  be  effected,  by  parole ,  or  word 
of  honor  that  he  will  not  serve  again  in  the  war. 

The  barbarities  attending  the  storming  and  capture  of  a 
besieged  town  or  fortress  are  among  the  most  revolting 
and  inhuman  of  all  the  manifold  atrocities  which  stain  the 
annals  of  war.  Pillage,  rapine,  indiscriminate  destruction, 
are  but  too  frequently  the  established  order  of  the  day. 
To  some  extent,  doubtless,  scenes  of  violence  are  inevita¬ 
ble  in  such  cases.  It  is  impossible  to  protect  entirely  those 
who  are  non-combatants  from  the  miseries  of  the  siege, 
the  famine,  the  assault  and  capture.  It  is  the  misfortune 
of  the  innocent  —  as  too  often  in  this  'world  —  to  suffer 
WTith  the  guilty.  To  put  to  death,  in  cold  blood,  those 
who  had  cast  themselves  on  the  clemency  or  the  good 
faith  of  the  conqueror,  would  be  justified,  however,  by  no 
laws  or  usages  of  modern  warfare.  In  cases  of  protracted 
resistance,  measures  of  severity  are  sometimes  practised, — 
as  putting  the  garrison  to  the  sword,  or  giving  up  the 
place  to  pillage,  for  the  purpose  of  striking  terror  into 
other  resisting  and  fortified  places,  and  thus  bringing  the 
war  sooner  to  an  end.  Such  procedure  may  possibly  be 
justified,  in  some  extreme  cases,  on  the  ground  of  humanity, 
and  the  ultimate  saving  of  life.  But  such  acts,  even  if 
sometimes  necessary,  are  still  among  the  most  inhuman 
features  of  war. 

By  the  usages  of  modern  warfare,  private  property  is 
respected  in  an  enemy’s  country,  on  the  ground  that  it  is 
not  with  the  citizen,  but  the  state,  that  war  is  waged.  At 
sea,  however,  the  same  rule  has  not,  as  yet,  been  estab¬ 
lished  ;  but  the  merchant’s  vessel  is  liable  to  be  captured, 
and  his  goods  seized,  as  not  being  within  the  territory, 
and  on  that  account,  in  a  measure,  out  of  the  protection 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  T O  STATE. 


31» 


of  the  state  to  which  he  belongs.  It  is  difficult  to  per¬ 
ceive  the  justice  and  ethical  ground  of  such  a  distinction. 

4.  International  Jurisdiction.  —  By  gradual  usage 
and  conventional  agreement  of  nations,  certain  rules  and 
maxims  have  come  to  be  of  acknowledged  authority  in 
respect  to  national  territory  and  rights  of  jurisdiction. 
As  against  other  states,  every  state  has  the  unquestioned 
and  exclusive  right  to  its  own  territory.  But  it  may 
often  come  in  question,  how  far  does  that  territory  ex¬ 
tend.  Hence,  it  is  important  to  settle  all  such  questions 
according  to  some  established  rules.  By  the  law  of  na¬ 
tions,  the  territory  of  any  state  is  considered  as  extending 
to  the  forts,  harbors,  bays,  and  whatever  parts  of  the  sea 
are  enclosed  by  headlands  belonging  to  that  state.  Its 
jurisdiction  also  extends  to  the  distance  of  a  cannon-shot 
from  the  shore,  along  all  its  coasts.  Within  these  lines 
its  right  of  property  and  control  is  exclusive. 

States  have  sometimes  claimed  still  further  jurisdiction 
over  adjacent  seas,  as  formerly  Venice  over  the  Adriatic, 
and,  more  recently,  Turkey  over  the  Euxine,  Russia  over 
the  Baltic,  and  Denmark  over  the  Sound.  It  sometimes 
happens  that  rivers  run  through  different  countries,  in 
their  course  to  the  sea ;  in  such  cases  there  is  at  least 
a  moral  and  commercial,  if  not  an  international  right, 
of  each  state  through  whose  territory  it  may  pass,  to  the 
unobstructed  right  of  the  same,  for  purposes  of  commerce. 
In  times  of  peace,  this  right  is  usually  conceded,  either 
tacitly  or  by  convention  ;  in  case  of  hostilities  between 
nations  thus  situated,  the  rights  of  commerce  give  way 
to  the  rights  of  war,  and,  by  the  usage  of  nations,  the 
enemy's  ships,  as  already  stated,  are  lawful  plunder.  Even 
the  goods  of  a  neutral  state  are  not  exempt  from  this  rule, 


320 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


when  found  in  an  enemy’s  vessel,  —  the  maxim  being  that 
enemy’s  ships  make  enemy’s  goods. 

The  question  sometimes  arises,  how  far  the  jurisdiction 
of  a  state  extends  to  its  subjects  when  out  of  its  territory; 
as,  for  example,  in  a  ship  on  the  high  seas.  It  is  generally 
conceded,  that  the  vessels  of  any  nation,  at  sea,  and  be¬ 
yond  the  territorial  limits  of  other  states,  are  subject  to 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  state  to  which  they  belong.  So 
far  as  respects  the  violation  of  its  own  laws,  that  ju¬ 
risdiction  is  exclusive.  When  an  offence  is  committed 
against  the  common  law  of  nations,  it  passes  out  of  the 
exclusive  jurisdiction  of  that  particular  state  to  which 
the  vessel  belongs,  and  may  be  punished  by  the  proper 
tribunal  of  any  country  into  whose  ports  the  offender 
may  be  earned.  This  is  the  case  with  piracy,  for  ex¬ 
ample.  Any  ship  suspected  of  being  a  pirate,  may  be 
searched  by  any  stronger  power,  without  regard  to  the 
flag  under  which  she  may  choose  or  chance  to  sail;  and 
those  engaged  in  her  navigation  or  defence  may  be  tried, 
and,  if  convicted,  be  put  to  death,  by  the  legal  author¬ 
ities  of  any  other  state,  into  whose  ports  they  may  be 
taken. 

No  reason  can  be  shown  why  it  should  not  be  the  same 
with  the  slave-trade.  Such,  however,  is  not  the  present 
construction  of  international  law.  The  slave-trade  is,  in¬ 
deed,  condemned  by  the  laws  of  all  civilized  nations; 
but  it  has  been  decided  by  the  English  courts,  that  it  is 
not,  in  such  a  sense,  a  crime  against  the  general  law  of 
nations,  as  to  authorize  the  courts  of  one  nation  to  try 
the  loyal  subjects  of  another,  charged  with  this  offence, 
except  in  case  of  special  treaty  to  that  effect. 

The  national  jurisdiction  extends,  moreover,  not  merely 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


321 


to  its  subjects  and  vessels  on  the  high  seas,  but  in  some 
degree,  and  within  certain  limits,  to  its  subjects  in  any 
foreign  territory.  The  person  of  a  sovereign,  or  an  am¬ 
bassador,  passing  into  the  territory  of  a  foreign  state,  is 
not,  in  time  of  peace,  considered  as  properly  subject  to 
its  jurisdiction.  The  consuls,  also,  and  other  authorized 
agents  and  ministers  of  every  state,  exercise,  to  some  ex¬ 
tent,  jurisdiction  over  their  countrymen  in  foreign  states 
where  such  ministers  or  agents  may  reside.  Ships  of 
war,  in  foreign  ports,  are  exempt  from  local  jurisdiction 
of  the  same  ;  but  not  private  vessels,  unless  by  special 
agreement. 

The  general  principles  of  state  jurisdiction  may  be  com¬ 
prehended  in  the  following  maxims,  as  stated  by  jurists 
of  distinction :  First,  That  the  laws  of  a  state  have  force 
within  the  limits  of  its  own  government,  and  bind  all 
its  subjects,  but  have  no  force  beyond  those  limits.  Sec¬ 
ond,  That,  with  the  exceptions  already  stated,  all  persons 
found  within  the  limits  of  a  government,  whether  their 
residence  is  permanent  or  temporary,  are  to  be  deemed 
subjects  of  that  government.  And,  inasmuch  as  men 
often  pass  from  one  state  to  another,  in  which  the  laws 
respecting  rank,  property,  contracts,  marriage,  etc.,  may 
vary  from  those  of  the  former,  it  has  been  generally  con¬ 
ceded,  as  a  maxim  of  state  policy,  that  whatever  laws  re¬ 
specting  such  matters  are  in  force  in  the  state  from  which 
one  comes,  the  same  shall  be  considered  valid  and  bind¬ 
ing  on  him  in  the  state  to  which  he  goes,  so  far  as  they 
do  not  interfere  with  the  established  laws  and  rights  of 
the  latter,  and  of  its  citizens.  Thus,  a  contract  valid  by 
the  laws  of  the  land  in  which  it  is  made,  is  valid  in  all 
other  countries. 

Such  are  some  of  tbs  general  principles  of  international 
jurisprudence.  For  a  fuller  dW'u^sion  of  the  subject,  the 


322 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


reader  is  referred  to  the  works  which  treat  particularly 
of  these  matters;  and  especially  to  Story’s  Conflict  of 
Laws,  Wheaton’s  Elements  of  International  Law,  Man¬ 
ning’s  Commentaries  on  the  Law  of  Nations,  as  also  to 
the  commentaries  of  Kent,  and  Blackstone. 

§  II.  —  Ethical  Relations  of  Republican  States  to  Each 

Other. 

The  general  principles  which  should  regulate  the  in¬ 
tercourse  of  states  with  each  other,  have  been  pointed 
out  in  the  previous  sections.  These  principles  apply, 
also,  in  the  main,  to  the  intercourse  of  states  confederate 
with  each  other,  whether  as  independent  sovereignties, 
or  united  under  one  constitution  as  a  Republic.  States 
thus  confederated,  or  united,  sustain  to  each  other,  how¬ 
ever,  peculiar  relations ;  and  from  these  arise  certain  cor¬ 
responding  obligations,  of  a  more  specific  nature  than 
those  already  considered.  I  have  spoken  of  two  forms 
which  this  relation  may  assume  —  that  of  a  simple  con¬ 
federation,  and  that  of  a  republic . 

The  Confederation .  —  In  the  former  case,  certain  states, 
adjacent,  it  may  be,  in  territory,  or  drawn  toward  each 
by  community  of  interest,  for  purposes  of  mutual  benefit, 
or  for  mutual  defence,  form  themselves  into  a  league,  and 
deliberate,  by  their  representatives  in  council,  on  matters 
of  common  interest  or  common  danger.  The  separate 
cantons  of  Switzerland  are  an  example  of  such  confed¬ 
eration.  The  different  provinces  of  Germany  were  for¬ 
merly,  and,  to  some  extent,  are  still,  if  I  mistake  not,  thus 
united.  In  such  cases,  the  several  states  are  still  inde¬ 
pendent  sovereignties,  maintaining  each  its  own  form  of 
government,  the  authority  of  each  absolute  and  exclusive 
within  its  own  domains,  and  each  separated,  it  may  be, 
from  its  neighbors  by  mutual  jealousies  and  dissensions 


323 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 

The  congress  which  represents  them  possesses  no  sover¬ 
eignty  over  any  one  of  these  states,  nor  over  all  com¬ 
bined  ;  its  acts  are  only  acts  of  council ;  and  any  state,  if 
dissatisfied,  may  at  any  moment  withdraw  from  the  coun¬ 
cil  entirely,  or  refuse  to  execute  its  resolves.  Such  a  con¬ 
gress  may  act  as  agent  for  the  several  states,  with  dele¬ 
gated  authority,  to  declare  and  carry  on  war,  or  to  make 
peace;  to  appoint  ambassadors,  and  to  conclude  treaties. 
Such  treaties  and  acts,  however,  are  not  binding,  until 
they  receive  the  assent  of  each  sovereign  state,  in  its  sep¬ 
arate  capacity. 

The  Republic .  —  Such  an  arrangement  as  that  now  de¬ 
scribed  is  a  very  different  matter,  and  involves  a  very 
different  relation  of  the  several  parties,  from  that  which 
is  implied  in  a  Republic .  The  union  is  much  closer,  and 
more  perfect,  in  the  latter  case,  than  in  the  former.  The 
several  states  are  no  longer  independent  and  sovereign, 
but  they  compose  one  whole,  under  one  national  govern¬ 
ment,  and  to  this  national  government  is  committed  the 
sovereignty  and  control  of  the  general  affairs,  so  far  as 
other  nations  are  concerned,  —  its  powers  being  limited 
and  defined,  however,  by  the  constitution.  Within  the 
limits  thus  prescribed,  its  authority  is  complete,  that  is 
as  to  all  things  given  by  the  states,  in  the  first  place,  to 
its  jurisdiction.  All  other  matters  remain  still  under  the 
separate  jurisdiction  of  the  several  states.  It  can  raise 
armies,  levy  taxes,  declare  war  or  peace,  regulate  com¬ 
merce,  and  all  transactions  with  foreign  states ;  in  a  word, 
may  do  all  that  any  sovereign  state  can  do,  subject  only 
to  its  own  constitution.  Our  own  country  furnishes  an 
example  of  such  a  Republic. 

A  government  thus  constituted  derives,  evidently,  all 
its  powers  from  the  constitution.  Whatever  that  con¬ 
cedes,  it  may  do,  but  nothing  beyond ;  everything  else 


324 


DUTIES  OF  STATE  TO  STATE. 


lies  still  in  the  power  of  the  several  states  in  their  indi¬ 
vidual  capacity.  No  one  of  these  may  interfere  with 
the  internal  arrangements  and  affairs  of  any  other,  nor 
is  any  one  responsible  for  what  another  may  choose  to 
do,  or  not  to  do. 

Each  state  becomes  a  member  of  the  republic,  in  the 
first  place,  only  by  its  own  consent ;  that  is,  by  the  adop¬ 
tion  of  the  general  constitution  that  binds  together  the 
whole.  The  transfer  of  its  sovereignty  to  the  whole  must 
be  its  own  free  act.  But  that  once  done,  and  the  state 
having  once  become  a  member  of  the  republic,  it  has  no 
longer  a  moral  right  to  withdraw,  or  to  refuse  compliance 
with  the  general  laws  and  regulations  of  the  government, 
unless  such  condition  is  specially  and  specifically  con¬ 
tained  in  the  articles  of  primitive  agreement ;  that  is, 
in  the  original  constitution. 

In  the  forcible  and  just  language  of  Dr.  Hick  ok:  “A 
constitution  with,  and  one  without,  the  rights  of  nulli¬ 
fication  or  secession,  are  two  very  different  things;  and 
if  the  right  is  not  plainly  expressed,  then  it  does  not 
exist ;  and  those  who  have  adopted  it,  have  vested  rights 
under  it  which  no  separate  state  can  amend  or  disregard.” 
The  crime  of  treason  attaches  to  all  deliberate  and  armed 
resistance  to  authority  thus  constituted  ;  and  the  republic 
has  the  power  and  the  right  to  enforce  its  authority 
against  any  recreant  state,  subject  only  to  the  limits 
which  the  constitution  imposes. 


PART  y. 


DUTIES  TO  GOD. 


Of  the  general  classes  into  which  the  practical  duties 
of  life  were  divided  in  our  analysis,  those  which  pertain  to 
6elf,  to  society,  or  our  fellow-men  in  general,  to  the  fam¬ 
ily,  and  to  the  state,  have  already  claimed  our  attention. 
it  remains  to  consider,  in  the  present  division,  those  which 
we  owe  to  God.  In  one  sense,  as  it  has  been  already  re¬ 
marked,  all  our  duties,  whether  to  self  or  to  society,  to 
the  family  or  the  state,  are  duties  which  we  owe  to  God. 
fle  regards  them  as  such,  and  will  hold  us  responsible  for 
their  fulfillment.  There  is  no  duty  in  life,  to  whomsoever 
and  to  whatsoever  it  may  directly  pertain,  the  faithful  per¬ 
formance  of  which  he  does  not  regard  as  service  rendered 
unto  him,  and  the  neglect  of  which  he  will  not  count 
as  unfaithfulness  and  disobedience  toward  himself.  But, 
while  this  is  true  of  all  duties,  there  are  some  which  more 
specially  and  directly  pertain  to  God  as  their  immediate 
object ;  and  it  is  of  these  I  am  now  to  speak. 

These,  again,  resolve  themselves  naturally  into  two 
classes,  —  those  which  relate  to  the  feelings  which  we  cher¬ 
ish,  and  those  which  relate  to  the  conduct  which  we  man¬ 
ifest,  towards  God.  Among  the  more  prominent  of  the 
former  class  are  the  duties  of  Reverence  and  Love  ;  of  the 

28 


326  OF  THE  FEELINGS  TOWARDS  GOD. 


latter,  the  duties  of  Obedience  and  Worship .  These  may, 
perhaps,  be  regarded  as  comprehensive  of  all  others. 

Before  proceeding  to  treat  of  these  several  duties  in 
detail,  a  word  ought  perhaps  to  be  said  with  respect  to 
their  relation  and  importance,  as  compared  with  other 
departments  of  duty.  Of  the  various  classes  of  human 
obligation,  those  which  we  owe  to  the  Supreme  Being 
are  entitled  to  the  highest  rank.  All  other  branches  of 
duty  are,  in  a  measure,  inferior  and  subordinate  to  these. 
These  neglected,  all  others  will  be ;  these  faithfully  per¬ 
formed,  all  others  will  follow  in  their  train. 

This  seems  to  have  been  well  understood  by  the  ancients. 
“It  should  never  be  thought,”  says  Plato,  “that  there  is 
any  branch  of  human  virtue  of  greater  importance  than 
piety  towards  the  Deity.”  To  the  same  effect,  in  the 
Memorabilia  of  Xenophon,  Socrates  speaks  of  the  wor¬ 
ship  of  the  gods  as  a  duty  acknowledged  everywhere,  and 
received  by  all  men  as  the  first  command.  Cicero,  likewise, 
in  his  treatise  De  Ofhciis,  ranks  first  in  order  of  importance 
those  duties  which  we  owe  to  the  immortal  gods. 


CHAPTER  I. 

OF  TIIE  FEELINGS  TOWARDS  GOD. 

1.  Reverence.  —  If  there  is  such  a  Being  as  God,  the 
creator  of  all,  the  supreme  disposer  of  events,  the  righteous 
ruler  and  judge  of  men,  and  if  he  is  what  we  believe  him 
to  be,  omnipotent,  omniscient,  omnipresent,  eternal,  holy, 
just  and  good,  surely  this  great  and  glorious  Being  is  wor¬ 
thy  of  the  highest  reverence  of  the  mind.  The  moment 


OF  THE  FEELINGS  TOWARDS  GOD.  327 


the  idea  of  such  a  Being  presents  itself  to  the  mind,  we 
are  instinctively  impressed  with  the  grandeur  of  the  con¬ 
ception,  and  filled  with  awe,  as  in  the  presence  of  a  supe¬ 
rior  power.  That  mind  must  be  deficient  in  self-respect, 
lacking  in  the  perception  of  what  is  seemly  and  proper, 
that  does  not  feel  and  acknowledge  its  obligation  to  bow 
in  deepest  reverence  before  the  august  and  glorious  Being 
who  inhabiteth  eternity,  and  filleth  immensity  with  his 
presence.  That  mind  must  be  sadly  disordered,  and  thrown 
from  its  balance,  that  does  not  instinctively  yield  this  hom¬ 
age. 

Even  bad  men  may  do  this,  and  have  often  done  it. 
The  selfish  and  corrupt  heart,  that  seeks  only  its  own  ends, 
and  lives  only  for  itself,  may  still  retain  with  reverence  and 
fear  the  thought  of  that  infinite  excellence  and  purity,  so 
superior  to  anything  of  which  it  is  itself  conscious.  Such 
a  fear  may  indeed  border  on  superstition,  —  in  many  cases 
it  may  be  nothing  more,  —  yet  even  a  superstition  such  as 
this,  is  surely  better  and  more  reasonable  than  utter  irrev¬ 
erence. 

Reverence  is  an  emotion  that  takes  its  rise  in  the  spirit¬ 
ual  nature  of  man.  It  is  awakened  in  view  of  the  spiritual, 
wherever  manifested.  The  sublime  aspects  of  nature,  in 
so  far  as  they  express  the  majesty  and  power,  and  indicate 
the  presence  of  the  invisible  One,  whose  breath  giveth  life 
to  all  creatures,  and  whose  hand  sustains  the  goodly  fabric 
of  creation,  are  fitted  to  awaken  and  call  forth  this  emotion. 
The  reverent  mind  sees  Ood  in  all  his  works.  The  eternal 
hills  are  his  strength ;  the  clouds  are  his  chariot ;  the 
lightnings  are  his  arrows  ;  the  thunder  is  his  voice.  In  the 
impassioned  language  of  sacred  poetry,  even  inanimate 
nature  fears  and  adores  her  God.  “He  toucheth  the  hills, 
and  they  smoke.”  At  liis  going  forth,  “the  pillars  of  heaven 


328  OF  THE  FEELINGS  TOWARDS  GOD. 


tremble,  and  are  astonished.”  “  The  deep  uttereth  his 
voice,  and  lifteth  up  his  hands  on  high.” 

But  it  is  not  in  the  external  world  alone  that  the  spirit¬ 
ual  nature  of  man  recognizes  and  reveres  the  Infinite  Spirit. 
God  comes  yet  nearer  than  this  to  the  soul  that  he  hath 
made  in  the  image  of  his  own.  In  all  the  fears  and  hopes 
that  agitate  that  soul,  as  it  looks  forward  to  the  future ;  in 
all  its  aspirations  for  a  higher  excellence  than  it  has  yet 
attained  ;  in  all  the  providences  of  its  earthly  lot ;  in  all  the 
utterances  of  the  sacred  oracles;  in  all  the  silent  and  holy 
communing  of  the  soul  with  its  Maker,  —  the  devout  mind 
recognizes  the  presence  of  its  God,  and  adores  with  fear 
and  trembling;  and  never  is  the  soul  of  man  more  truly 
dignified  and  exalted,  than  when  thus  bowing  low  in  deep¬ 
est  reverence  before  God. 

Nor  is  the  emotion  of  which  I  speak  a  painful  one.  In 
this  respect  it  differs  from  fear ,  to  which  it  is  otherwise 
closely  analogous.  There  is  in  it  more  of  love  than  fear. 
The  majesty  and  the  glory,  that  reveal  to  the  waiting  and 
wondering  soul  the  presence  of  the  Infinite,  fill  that  soul 
with  awe  indeed,  but  not  with  fear,  —  inspire  it  with  a  calm 
and  holy  delight.  There  is  much,  it  may  be,  in  the  scene 
or  the  object  contemplated,  that  is  awful  and  terrible;  but 
yet  a  strange  and  invisible  attraction  draws  the  spirit 
towards  the  object  which  awakens  its  admiring  and  ador¬ 
ing  regard ;  and  it  stands  in  that  sacred  presence,  as  Moses 
before  the  burning  bush  in  the  desert,  filled  with  awe,  yet 
not  choosing  to  turn  away  from  a  spot  so  holy. 

The  reverence  of  which  I  speak,  as  due  to  the  Supreme 
Being,  belongs  also,  in  a  degree,  to  all  that  is  connected 
with  his  name  and  his  worship,  —  in  a  word,  to  all  sacred 
things.  The  reverent  mind  will  never  allow  itself  to  trifle 
with  anything  that  pertains  to  the  Divine  Being.  His 


OF  THE  FEELINGS  TOWARDS  GOD.  329 


name,  his  word,  his  ordinances,  his  works  —  all  are  sacred, 
and  to  be  revered.  Whatever  tends  to  desecrate  the  same, 
shocks  the  sensibility  of  every  right  mind.  To  take  the 
name  of  God  in  vain,  or  to  treat  with  levity  anything  per¬ 
taining  to  religion,  is  the  height  of  irreverence  and  im¬ 
piety. 

2.  Loye.  —  It  is  not  enough  to  fear  God.  Reverence, 
however  becoming,  and  however  the  want  of  it  may  indi¬ 
cate  some  serious  defect  or  degradation  of  character,  is  still 
not  the  whole,  nor  the  chief  duty  of  the  heart  towards 
God.  The  displays  of  his  power  and  majesty  in  nature, 
or  the  simple  conception  of  his  greatness  and  glory,  the 
idea  of  the  Infinite  and  the  Absolute,  of  Him  who  is  with¬ 
out  beginning  of  days,  or  end  of  years,  may  fill  the  mind 
that  once  fairly  entertains  so  grand  and  sublime  a  thought, 
with  a  profound  awe,  and  call  forth  its  deepest  reverence. 
But  God  is  more  than  this.  He  is  a  good,  as  well  as  a  great 
Being,  and  as  such,  deserves  not  merely  our  reverence,  but 
our  love. 

Gratitude  alone,  if  there  were  no  higher  consideration, 
requires  this.  The  goodness  of  God  is  not  an  abstract 
quality,  a  mere  conception  of  the  mind,  but  a  matter  of 
personal  experience,  as  manifested  to  every  man  in  the 
constant  and  ever-varying  benefits  of  every  passing  hour 
of  life.  The  God  whom  we  are  to  love,  is  the  God  that 
hath  led  us  all  our  life  long,  and  hath  crowned  all  our  days 
with  his  loving  kindness.  There  can  be  no  clearer  evi- 

i 

dence  of  the  guilt,  and  utter  ruin  of  the  soul,  than  that  it 
should  find  in  itself,  among  all  its  varied  powers,  and  ex¬ 
quisite  susceptibilities  of  emotion,  no  answering  chord  of 
grateful  affection  for  all  those  benefits,  —  that  it  should 
have  a  full  and  generous  love  to  bestow  on  all  inferioi 

28* 


330  OF  THE  FEELINGS  TOWARDS  GOD. 


objects,  but  no  love  for  Him  who  alone  is  worthy  of 
supreme  regard,  the  giver  of  every  good  and  perfect  gift. 

All  true  obedience,  and  all  true  and  acceptable  worship, 
must  have  its  seat  and  source  in  this  emotion.  That  is  an 
idle  and  a  vain  service,  which  proceeds  not  from  true  love 
in  the  heart.  Indeed,  as  Paley  has  well  said,  “  That  silent 
piety  which  consists  in  a  habit  of  tracing  out  the  Creator’s 
wisdom  and  goodness  in  the  objects  around  us,  of  referr¬ 
ing  the  blessings  we  enjoy  to  his  bounty,  and  of  resorting 
in  our  distresses  to  his  succor,  may  possibly  be  more 
acceptable  to  the  Deity  than  any  visible  expressions  of 
devotion  whatever.” 

Love  to  God  is  the  spring  of  all  true  religion,  and  the 
foundation  of  all  genuine  morality.  It  is  a  duty  compre¬ 
hensive,  in  part,  of  all  others.  It  is  the  first  and  great 
commandment,  comprising  within  itself  all  minor  require¬ 
ments.  The  God  who  made  us,  and  whom  we  serve,  —  in 
whom  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being,  —  demands 
our  love  —  will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less,  deserves 
nothing  less.  Failing  in  this,  we  miss  the  whole  duty  of 
man. 

Accordingly,  God  has  formed  us  to  love  him,  and  en¬ 
dowed  us  with  a  nature  fitted  to  this  end.  lie  has  so  con¬ 
stituted  us,  that,  by  the  very  laws  of  our  being,  whatever  is 
beautiful  and  excellent  naturally  wins  our  admiration, 
and  calls  forth  our  love.  We  are  not  insensible  to  all 
the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  his  works.  On  every  side 
they  surprise,  they  delight  us.  But  these  are  only  a  por¬ 
tion  of  his  ways  —  the  dim  and  faint  reflection  of  the  eter¬ 
nal  beauty  and  excellence  that  dwells  in  him,  their  author 
vind  original.  Loving  and  admiring  these  his  works,  he 
would  have  us,  in  these  and  above  these,  love  and  adore 


OF  THE  FEELINGS  TOWARDS  GOD.  331 


himself,  the  source  of  all  —  the  Being  in  whom  all  loveli¬ 
ness,  all  beauty,  dwell. 

Our  nature  inclines  us  to  admire,  also,  what  is  morally 
excellent,  what  is  great  and  noble  in  character,  as  well  a* 
what  is  beautiful  and  lovely  in  the  external  world.  There 
are  certain  attributes  and  qualities  of  mind  and  heart 
which,  wherever  manifested,  win  our  admiration.  We  are 
formed  to  love  and  admire  such  qualities — it  is  our  nature. 
But  He  who  so  formed  us,  possesses  in  himself,  in  highest 
perfection,  these  very  attributes ;  and  in  so  constituting  us 
as  to  love  what  is  truly  great,  and  excellent,  and  worthy  to 
be  loved,  he  has  specially  formed  and  fitted  us  to  love 
Himself,  the  source  of  all  excellence. 

And  does  he  not  richly  deserve  our  love,  simply  for 
bestowing  upon  us  a  nature  thus  fitted  for  infinite  enjoy¬ 
ment?  A  single  sensation  of  happiness,  it  has  been  well 
remarked,  though  it  should  continue  but  for  a  moment, 
and  terminate  with  that  single  moment,  would  be  a  cause 
for  gratitude  so  long  as  it  could  be  remembered.  If 
this  be  so,  if  the  enjoyment  of  even  a  single  sense,  for  a 
single  moment,  is  cause  of  gratitude,  what  shall  we  say  of 
that  constant  enjoyment,  not  of  one,  but  of  all  our  senses; 
not  of  sense  merely,  but  of  the  higher  intellectual  pleas¬ 
ures  ;  not  of  intellect  merely,  but  of  heart,  and  soul,  and 
all  that  fills  the  spiritual,  moral  nature  with  delight ;  and 
this  not  for  a  single  moment  of  existence,  but  through 
life  ?  Does  not  the  generous  donor  of  a  happiness  so 
varied  and  bountiful,  and  utterly  undeserved,  richly  merit 
that  love  which  he  seeks  to  draw  forth  from  his  creatures 
toward  himself? 


332 


OF  OBEDIENCE. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OF  OBEDIENCE. 

# 

Tiie  duties  of  the  heart,  though  at  the  foundation  of  all 
morality  and  all  piety,  do  not  terminate  in  themselves, 
and  are  not  complete  in  themselves.  Moral  obligation 
relates  to  the  conduct ,  no  less  than  to  the  feelings.  Rev¬ 
erence  toward  God,  and  love  to  God,  lead  to  obedience, 
and  terminate  in  that  as  their  natural  result  and  object. 
The  feeling  manifests  itself  in  the  conduct,  insomuch  that 
where  the  latter  is  deficient,  we  are  warranted  in  conclud¬ 
ing  that  the  former  is  also  lacking.  There  cannot  be  true 

love  to  God  in  the  heart,  where  there  is  not  real  obedience 

*  • 

to  God  in  the  life.  The  first  and  chief  duty  of  all  these, 
so  far  as  regards  the  conduct  of  man  with  respect  to  God, 
is  obedience  to  the  divine  will.  “  If  ye  love  me,  keep  my 
commandments.” 

The  obligation  to  obedience  results  both  from  the  divine 
character,  and  from  the  relations  we  sustain  to  God  as  his 
creatures. 

The  Divine  Character.  —  The  character  of  God  is  con¬ 
formable  to  the  highest  conceptions  which  the  human 
mind  can  form  of  excellence  and  purity.  In  him  are 
united  all  the  attributes  that  command  our  admiration. 
To  him  belong  not  only  infinite  power,  and  matchless  wis¬ 
dom,  but  the  most  exalted  purity,  the  strictest  justice,  the 
most  universal  benevolence.  All  that  we  see  and  admire 
in  others  of  these  virtues  and  perfections,  is  but  the  reflec¬ 
tion  of  his  own  superior  excellence,  a  feeble  emanation 
from  that  Source  of  all  beauty  and  splendor. 


OF  OBEDIENCE. 


333 


Now,  it  is  fit  that  a  Being  of  such  exalted  perfections 
should  receive  the  homage  and  obedience  of  all  hearts  and 
all  lives.  His  character  entitles  him  to  command,  and  obli¬ 
gates  us  to  obeys  There  is  a  moral  fitness  and  propriety 
that  the  sceptre  of  the  universe  should  rest  in  his  hands ; 
that  the  Being  in  whom  repose  all  wisdom,  and  power,  and 
goodness,  and  truth,  and  justice,  should  be  also  the  source 
of  law,  and  receive  the  cordial  obedience  of  the  universe. 
For  any  being  to  refuse  such  obedience,  is  for  the  finite  to 
set  itself  against  the  infinite ;  the  feeble  and  imperfect  to 
declare  itself  independent  of  the  perfect ;  the  impure  and 
unholy  to  exalt  itself  against  the  holy ;  the  creature  of  a 
day  to  declare  itself  more  wise  and  worthy  to  rule  than 
the  august  Being  whose  goings  forth  are  from  eternity. 
It  is  impossible  for  any  candid  and  intelligent  mind  calmly 
to  meditate  upon  the  character  and  perfections  of  God, 
and  not  perceive  in  them  a  sufficient  reason  why  all  crea¬ 
tures,  in  all  parts  of  his  dominion,  shouM  yield  him  will¬ 
ing  and  earnest  obedience. 

Our  Relations  to  Him . —  The  duty  of  obedience  results 
also  from  the  relations  which  we  sustain  to  the  Divine 
Being.  He  is  not  only  in  himself  the  source  and  fountain 
of  highest  excellence,  but  he  has  imparted  from  his  own 
infinite  resources  life  and  happiness  to  all  creatures.  He 
is  our  Creator .  All  that  we  prize  and  value  in  life  as  such, 
is  his  gift.  His  breath  woke  us  first  into  existence.  What¬ 
ever  powers  of  body  or  of  mind  we  possess,  with  what¬ 
ever  natural  attributes  we  are  endowed,  all  are  his,  and  of 
him.  Nothing  pertaining  to  us  can  we  properly  call  our 
own.  From  the  first  moment  of  existence  to  the  last,  we 
exercise  no  faculty  of  thought  or  feeling  or  action,  which 
he  has  not  first  given  us,  and  which  he  does  not  rightly 
claim  as  belonging  to  himself.  The  very  power  to  disobey 


334 


OF  OBEDIENCE. 


is  a  power  which  he  has  himself  conferred.  In  him  we 
live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being ;  and  when,  in  our  mad¬ 
ness  and  folly,  we  refuse  him  the  homage  and  service 
which  he  justly  demands,  it  is  against  him  in  whose  hand 
our  breath  is  that  we  vainly  strike.  He  bears  with  our 
folly,  for  he  knoweth  our  frame ;  he  rememberetli  that  we 
are  dust;  yet  he  never  relinquishes  his  claim  to  our  entire 
and  hearty  obedience. 

The  Kature  of  his  Requirements.  —  A  further  argument 
and  obligation  to  obedience  is  derived  from  the  nature  of 
the  divine  requirements.  From  such  a  Being,  infinite  in 
power,  and  all  the  attributes  of  the  most  perfect  character, 
and  sustaining  such  peculiar  relations  to  us,  as  creatures, 
dependent  on  his  constant  protection  for  our  continued  ex¬ 
istence,  as  we  are  on  his  creative  power  for  our  first  origin, 
—  from  such  a  Being,  and  in  such  relations,  any  law  which 
he  might  give,  would  carry  with  it  the  weight  and  bind¬ 
ing  force  of  a  perfect  moral  obligation.  The  simple  fact 
that  he  is  a  perfect  Being,  incapable  of  willing  or  com¬ 
manding  that  which  is  wrong,  and  that  he  is  our  own 
Creator,  and  constant  Benefactor,  make  it  imperative  on 
us  to  give  earnest  heed  to  the  least  and  most  trivial  ex* 
pression  of  that  will  which  to  us  is  law. 

But,  to  state  the  matter  thus,  and  leave  it  thus,  would  be 
to  make  but  an  imperfect  statement  of  it.  When  we  come 
to  look  at  what  this  law  is  which  he  has  given  us,  we  find 
it  one  which,  in  itself,  and  apart  from  all  consideration  of 
the  source  from  which  it  emanates,  carries  its  own  author¬ 
ity  and  power  of  obligation.  It  is  a  law  not  arbitrary  in 
its  mandate,  and  for  which  no  reason  can  be  assigned  other 
than  that  the  Maker  chose  to  have  it  so  ;  but,  on  the  con¬ 
trary,  a  law  directly  adapted  to  our  nature  and  wants.  It 
requires  that  which  it  is  for  our  own  highest  good  that  we 


OF  OBEDIENCE. 


335 


should  do;  it  forbids  that  which  it  is  for  our  own  highest 
good  to  avoid.  Obedience  to  such  a  law  brings  our  whole 
being  into  harmony  with  itself  and  with  fhe  demands  of 
its  own  nature ;  disobedience  results  in  the  disarrangement 
and  discord  of  all  the  powers  of  the  soul,  the  disorder  and 
ultimate  ruin  of  the  physical,  the  mental,  and  the  moral 
man.  Viewed  in  this  its  true  light,  the  Divine  Will  is  not 
so  much  a  law  commanding  obedience  for  its  own  sake,  aa 
a  kind  and  faithful  guide  sent  to  direct  our  steps  in  the 
uncertain  wilderness  of  life,  and  to  point  us  to  those  paths 
which  lead  to  honor  and  immortality  and  eternal  life.  It  is 
that  Celestial  Wisdom  of  which  Hebrew  poets  sang,  —  the 
merchandise  of  which  is  better  than  the  merchandise  of 
silver,  and  the  gain  thereof  than  fine  gold;  —  more  pre¬ 
cious  than  rubies,  and  all  the  things  thou  canst  desire  not 
to  be  compared  to  her;  —  in  her  right  hand,  length  of 
days;  in  her  left  hand,  riches  and  honor;  her  ways,  ways 
of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  peace ;  —  a  tree  of  life  to 
them  that  lay  hold  on  her,  and  happy  he  who  retaineth 
her. 

The  Dictate  of  lieas on.  —  Reason,  aside  from  the  teach¬ 
ings  of  revelation,  points  out  the  duty  of  obedience  to  the 
divine  requirements.  Animals  have  no  law  but  that  of 
appetite  and  instinct.  They  have  no  moral  nature,  and 
are  therefore  not  proper  subjects  of  moral  government. 
Jim  is  a  being  of  a  higher  order,  endowed  with  powers 
which  fit  him  to  take  rank  with  the  noblest  orders  of 
created  intelligence.  To  him  it  is  given  to  know  the  right 
and  the  wrong,  to  look  onward  from  the  act  to  its  conse¬ 
quences,  to  trace  events  to  their  causes ;  to  him  is  given 
the  sense  of  moral  obligation  ;  to  him  the  aspirations  and 
hopes  of  the  future.  Such  is  his  moral  nature,  that  he  can¬ 
not  be  happy,  cannot  reach  the  true  good  of  his  being,  his 
own  high  destiny,  but  by  likeness  to  and  communion  with 


336 


OF  OBEDIENCE. 


his  adorable  Creator.  His  nature  demands  this,  is  ever  un¬ 
satisfied  and  restlessly  yearning  without  it.  His  earnest 
soul,  agitated  by  passions  and  conflicting  desires,  becomes 
as  the  troubled  sea  till  it  finds  its  rest  in  God  —  till  it  hears 
the  voice  of  its  Creator,  walking  upon  its  waves,  and  say¬ 
ing  unto  them,  Peace!  —  be  still! 

Is  man,  then,  in  all  his  consciousness  of  freedom,  and  of 
power  to  do  as  he  will,  loithont  a  law  ?  Is  not  this  very 
nature  of  his  a  law  unto  him?  This  sense  of  right,  this 
feeling  of  obligation,  this  consciousness  of  a  higher  end 
and  purpose,  this  longing  for  something  better,  purer,  than 
he  has  yet  obtained  —  are  not  these  all  a  law  unto  him  ? 
And  shall  he  violate  this  law  merely  because  he  has  the 
power,  and  can  do  so  if  he  will?  Is  not  such  a  course 
utterly  irrational,  and  a  gross  abuse  of  the  freedom  with 
which  he  is  endowed  ? 

Whether  we  look,  then,  at  the  character  and  perfections 
of  the  Being  who  claims  our  homage  and  obedience,  or  at 
the  relations  which  we  sustain  to  him,  or  at  the  nature  of 
the  law  he  has  given  us,  or  at  our  own  moral  nature  and 
the  dictates  of  reason  respecting  the  same,  we  find  equally, 
and  from  all  sources,  the  clearest  vindication  of  the  divine 
right  to  our  service  and  allegiance. 

As  to  the  nature  of  the  obedience  which  we  owe  to  the 
Divine  Will,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  it  must  be  cordial 
and  sincere — not  a  matter  of  form  merely,  but  a  matter  of 
the  heart ;  otherwise  it  is  in  reality  no  obedience,  since 
the  very  requirement  that  is  made  of  us  is  to  love  the  Lord 
our  God  with  all  our  heart,  and  soul,  and  mind,  and 
strength.  It  should,  moreover,  be  a  prompt  and  ready 
obedience  —  not  reluctantly  given,  as  that  from  which  we 
would  gladly  be  excused  but  for  the  force  and  pressure  of 
circumstances,  but  the  free,  spontaneous  offering  of  a  will- 


OF  WORSHIP. 


337 


ing  mind.  It  should  be  a  decisive  obedience,  comprehen¬ 
sive  of  all  the  powers  and  faculties  of  our  being, — the 
obedience  not  of  a  divided  and  distracted  kingdom,  but 
of  a  heart  firm  in  its  loyalty,  and  true  to  itself  and  to  its 
rightful  sovereign. 


CHAPTER  III. 

OF  WORSHIP. 

The  reverence  and  love  which  we  owe  to  God,  and  that 
obedience  which  springs  from  these,  and  constitutes  their 
natural  and  appropriate  expression,  have  been  already  con¬ 
sidered  in  the  preceding  chapters.  But  those  affections 
and  dispositions  of  heart  which  lead  to  obedience,  lead 
also  to  the  worship  of  God.  That  exalted  and  glorioun 
Being  who  is  the  object  of  our  reverence  and  our  love,  and 
who  claims  our  obedience,  is  also  the  proper  object  of  our 
adoration  and  worship.  No  intelligent  mind  can  for  a 
moment  contemplate  the  character  and  attributes,  the 
works  and  the  ways  of  Jehovah,  what  he  is,  and  what  he 
does,  and  not  feel  that  he  is  worthy  of  the  direct  adoration 
and  homage  of  every  created  being. 

The  worship  of  the  Supreme  Being  seems  to  be  an  in¬ 
stinctive  principle,  an  impulse  of  our  nature,  a  law  of  the 
soul.  As  such,  it  shows  itself  under  all  the  forms  and  con¬ 
ditions  of  social  life,  in  all  ages,  and  all  countries,  in  all 
the  various  religions  of  the  race,  whether  true  or  false, 
superstitious  or  reasonable.  Whoever  builds  an  altar,  or 
in  the  silent  recesses  of  his  heart  breathes  a  prayer ;  who- 

29 


338 


OF  WORSHIP. 


ever  bows  himself  toward  the  rising  sun,  or  stretches  forth 
his  hand  in  supplication  toward  the  moon  walking  in  her 
brightness,  or  the  stars  that  gem  the  brow  of  night ;  who¬ 
ever  calls  upon  an  unknown  God,  or  worships  the  invisible 
spirit  that  filleth  immensity  with  his  presence,  and  is  not 
far  from  every  one  of  us,  —  is  but  acting  in  accordance  to 
this  impulse  and  instinct  of  his  nature.  He  who  never 
worships,  has  in  reality  no  religion,  and  knows  no  God. 

In  discussing  this  subject  two  distinct  topics  present 
themselves  to  our  attention,  —  the  one  relating  to  worship 
in  itself  considered,  the  other  to  the  observance  of  sacred 
times  and  special  occasions  for  worship  —  Prayer,  and 

the  Sabbath. 

* 

§  I.  —  Of  Prayer. 

Its  Nature.  —  Prayer  is  not  necessarily  direct,  or  vocal; 
not  of  necessity  limited  to  any  set  form,  or  time,  or  place. 
It  is  not  always  even  the  express  utterance  in  words,  or 
presenting  in  thought,  of  any  specific  petition  or  desire. 
There  may  be  prayer  without  any  of  these  conditions. 
The  silent  breathing  of  the  heart;  the  silent  going  forth  of 
the  soul  to  its  God  in  adoration  and  praise,  or  in  humble 
penitence  and  contrition ;  the  faith  that  rests  placidly  on 
his  mercy  for  pardon  and  the  forgiveness  of  sin ;  the  hope 
that  looks  joyfully  toward  the  hills  from  whence  its  help 
cometh  ;  the  love  that  finds  delight  in  communing  with  so 
great  and  so  glorious  a  friend,  —  these  various  states  and 
exercises  of  the  mind  are  all,  in  one  sense,  but  so  many 
forms  and  varieties  of  prayer.  The  communion  and  con¬ 
verse  of  the  soul  with  God,  in  whatever  manner  or  form,  is 
in  reality  prayer.  It  is  this  which  constitutes  the  prayer, 
when  words  and  forms  are  used  ;  and  the  words  and  forms 
may  be  dispensed  with,  but  the  prayer  still  go  on ;  while. 


OF  WORSHIP. 


339 


without  this,  the  mere  words  and  forms,  however  solemn 
and  imposing,  become  but  a  vain  and  senseless  mockery. 
As  When  one  afar  from  home,  and  in  some  strange  land, 
mingles  with  his  fellow-men,  the  companions  of  his  voyage, 
and  engages,  it  may  be,  in  the  pursuits  of  business  which 
brought  him  thither, —  still  thinking,  however,  of  his  home 
and  friends,  and  longing  to  meet  them  again,  and  cherish¬ 
ing  their  memory  and  their  words  in  his  heart,  while  yet 
those  thoughts  find  no  utterance  or  expression  before 
those  with  whom  he  mingles,  —  so  is  it  often  with  the  truly 
devout  soul,  cherishing  its  silent  and  sweet  thoughts  of 
God,  and  conversing  with  him  in  reality,  while  engaged  in 
the  pursuits  and  occupations  of  daily  life. 

I  am  very  far,  however,  from  implying,  in  what  I  have 
now  said,  that  the  true  spirit  of  prayer  does  not  naturally 
seek  for  itself  direct  and  vocal  utterance,  and  those  ap¬ 
propriate  times,  and  places,  and  forms  of  expression,  which 
are  suited  to  its  wants.  True,  these  are  but  the  body, 
the  other  the  soul;  still  the  two  are  in  nature  conjoined. 
He  whose  prayers  never  take  the  form  of  direct  petition, 
and  never  clothe  themselves  in  words,  nor  ask  for  them¬ 
selves  any  special  time  and  place,  exclusive  of  other  things, 
pays  questionable  worship.  He  is  like  the  traveller  in  for¬ 
eign  lands  who  contents  himself  with  occasional  thoughts 
of  home  and  friends,  while  constantly  engaged  in  the 
business  or  the  pleasures  that  surround  him,  but  takes 
no  time  for  direct  converse  or  correspondence,  nor  even 
sets  apart  one  moment  from  other  pursuits,  as  sacred  to 
this  holier  occupation. 

Prayer  includes,  not  petition  only,  but  praise  and  thanks^ 
giving.  It  contemplates  not  merely  our  own  wants,  but 
the  greatness  and  glory  of  Him  whom  we  worship.  In 
the  adoration  which  is  thus  called  forth,  in  the  admiring 
wonder  and  delight  with  which  the  mind  is  thus  filled, 


340 


OF  WORSHIP. 


it  forgets  itself,  often,  and  its  little  wants,  and  thinks  only 
of  the  glorious  Being  in  whose  presence  it  stands,  and 
before  whose  brightness  it  is  astonished.  Or  it  is  filled 
with  gratitude  and  joy,  in  view  of  all  the  mercies  it  has 
received  at  the  hand  of  this  great  and  glorious  God,  and 
its  thankfulness  finds  expression  in  praise.  In  such  mo¬ 
ments  its  songs  are  prayers,  and  its  prayers  are  songs. 

Nor  is  prayer  always  a  private  matter.  True,  the  soul 
naturally  seeks  solitude,  as  the  condition  most  favorable 
to  devotion.  But  not  always  thus.  At  the  family  altar, 
in  the  social  circle,  and  in  the  more  formal  devotions  of 
the  solemn  assembly,  prayer  finds  its  appropriate  place, 
and  its  fitting  utterance.  Nor  is  the  social  and  public 
worship  of  God  less  a  duty,  than  the  more  private  and 
solitary  communion  with  him,  which  the  devout  spirit  so 
highly  prizes. 

Its  Source.  —  If  we  inquire  whence  springs  this  desire 
of  the  human  soul  to  hold  converse  with  its  God,  —  by 
virtue  of  which  not  the  good  and  devout  alone,  but  even 
bad  men,  whose  hands  are  stained  with  crime,  and  whose 
hearts,  by  long  continuance  in  evil,  are  rendered  insensi¬ 
ble  to  the  beauty  and  excellence  of  virtue,  are  neverthe¬ 
less  sometimes  inclined  to  acts  of  devotion,  —  we  shall 
find  its  source,  if  I  mistake  not,  partly  in  that  religious 
instinct,  of  which  I  have  already  spoken  as  natural  to 
man ;  partly  in  the  fears  of  the  future,  and  the  conscious¬ 
ness  of  ill-desert,  which  at  times  oppress  and  overwhelm 
the  guilty ;  partly  in  the  happiness  which  the  pure  and 
devout  mind  experiences  in  communing  with  its  God. 
It  seems  to  be  the  intention  of  nature  that  man  should 
thus  recognize  his  dependence  on  .the  Divine  Being,  and 
find  his  highest  happiness  in  communing  with  him.  Per- 


OF  WORSHIP. 


*  341 


haps,  also,  we  ought  to  take  into  account,  in  this  connec¬ 
tion,  the  social  nature  of  man,  as  inclining  him  to  the 
same  result.  The  heart  of  man  is  ill  fitted  for  solitude, 
longs  for  companionship,  seeks  to  share  its  sorrows  and  its 
joys  with  some  other  and  sympathizing  heart.  In  man  it 
finds  not  always  the  fellowship  and  sympathy  it  needs ;  in 
man  it  cannot  always  confide.  But  to  its  God  it  can  come 
in  the  darkest  and  weariest  hour  of  life,  sure  of  sympathy 
and  of  relief,  sure  that  its  confidence  will  not  be  betrayed. 
In  the  just  and  beautiful  language  of  Mr.  Stewart :  “  The 

dejection  of  mind  which  accompanies  a  state  of  complete 
solitude ;  the  disposition  we  have  to  impart  to  others  our 
thoughts  and  feelings ;  the  desire  we  have  of  other  intel- 
/igent  and  moral  natures  to  sympathize  with  our  own,  — 
all  lead  us,  in  the  progress  of  reason  and  of  moral  culture, 
to  establish  gradually  a  mental  intercourse  with  the  Invis¬ 
ible  Witness  and  Judge  of  our  conduct.  An  habitual 
sense  of  the  divine  presence  comes  at  last  to  be  formed. 
In  every  object  or  event  that  we  see,  we  trace  the  hand 
of  the  Almighty,  and  in  the  suggestions  of  reason  and 
conscience,  we  listen  to  his  inspirations.  In  this  inter¬ 
course  of  the  heart  with  God,  —  an  intercourse  which 
enlivens  and  gladdens  the  most  desolate  scenes,  and  which 
dignifies  the  duties  of  the  meanest  station,  —  the  supreme 
felicity  of  our  nature  is  to  be  found ;  and  till  it  is  firmly 

i 

established,  there  remains  a  void  in  every  breast  which 
nothing  earthly  can  supply.” 

Its  Reasonableness.  —  In  what  has  now  been  said,  we 
find  not  merely  an  explanation,  but  a  justification  of 
prayer.  It  is  eminently  a  reasonable  and  proper  thing, 
inasmuch  as  it  is  founded  in  the  very  nature  and  wants 
of  man  as  a  dependent  and  social  being.  lie  is  a  weak 
and  helpless  creature,  dependent  on  his  God  for  every 

20* 


342 


OF  WORSHIP. 


moment  of  existence,  in  need  of  a  constant  protection  and 
guidance,  a  constant  and  powerful  preservation.  Why 
should  he  not  acknowledge  this  dependence,  by  going 
directly  to  the  Source  of  all  light  and  life  for  whatever 
he  needs?  W e  ask  for  what  we  want,  always,  of  our 
fellow-men  ;  why  should  we  not  of  our  God  also  ? 

Its  Efficacy,  —  It  must  be  admitted,  after  all,  that  the 
reasonableness  of  prayer  depends,  in  a  measure  at  least, 
on  its  efficacy.  If  it  were  of  no  avail  to  present  our 
petition  to  the  throne  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  little  could 
be  said  in  favor  of  such  a  course.  That  which  is  quite 
useless,  and  known  to  be  so,  can  hardly  be  called  a  rea¬ 
sonable  procedure.  Now,  it  is  precisely  here  that  the 
gravest  and  weightiest  objections  lie  against  the  reason¬ 
ableness  and  duty  of  prayer.  If  it  is  best  that  we  should 
receive  that  for  which  we  ask,  if  this  is  accordant  with 
divine  wisdom  and  goodness,  then  God  will  certainly  be¬ 
stow  it  upon  us,  whether  we  ask  it  or  not;  but  if  it  be 
not  so,  then  he  will  not  give  it  to  us,  even  if  we  do  ask. 
Of  what  avail,  then,  in  either  case,  is  our  asking?  I  reply: 
this  objection  assumes  too  much.  It  by  no  means  follows 
that  whatever  it  is  best  for  us  to  have,  in  ansicer  to  our 
prayers,  it  is  best  for  us  to  have  without  the  asking.  The 
prayer  may  be  the  very  condition  on  which  the  bestowal 
of  the  favor  is  suspended,  and  without  which,  divine  wis¬ 
dom  would  not  see  fit  to  grant  it. 

But  it  is  further  objected,  that  prayer  implies  a  desire 
and  request  on  our  part  that  God,  the  infinitely  wise,  and 
just,  and  good,  would  alter  the  course  of  the  world,  and 
of  his  own  administration,  in  order  to  suit  our  wishes, 
lie  has  marked  out  a  certain  course  of  action,  has  estab¬ 
lished  certain  laws  and  principles,  according  to  which  the 
course  of  nature  moves  on  from  age  to  age.  We  come, 


OF  WORSHIP. 


343 


in  our  folly  and  ]3resumption,  and  ask  him  so  far  to  alter 
and  suspend  these  laws  and  this  course  of  action,  as  to 
bring  about  some  specific  event,  not  included  in  the  orig¬ 
inal  plan,  or  to  prevent  the  accomplishment  of  what,  in 
the  natural  and  established  order  of  things,  would  take 
place.  At  first  view,  this  objection  appears  formidable, 
the  more  so  from  the  show  of  philosophy  which  it  assumes. 
It  is  hardly  necessary,  as  some  writers  have  done,  to  bring 
forward  an  array  of  arguments  drawn  from  science,  in 
order  to  meet  this  objection.  In  this  case,  perhaps,  as  in 
many  others,  the  best  answer  is  the  simplest  and  most  ob¬ 
vious.  It  is  this :  He  who  lays  out  the  plan  of  the  uni¬ 
verse  and  establishes  its  laws,  takes  into  view  the  whole 
series  of  events;  in  this  series -of  events,  every  prayer 
which  we  offer,  every  desire  we  breathe,  has  its  fixed  place 
and  influence,  was  foreseen,  and  its  effect  determined,  from 
the  outset.  We  are  not,  therefore,  in  reality  asking  God 
to  change  the  course  of  events,  or  the  plan  of  the  universe, 
when  we  offer  to  him  our  prayers,  since  those  prayers  are 
themselves  a  part  of  the  established  order.  Dr.  Whe- 
well  has  well  expressed  this :  “  In  the  spiritual  world, 

the  prayers  of  believers  are  events  as  real  as  their  tempta¬ 
tions,  their  deliverance,  their  forgiveness ;  and  the  former 
events  may  very  naturally  be  conceived  to  produce  an 
effect  upon  the  latter.  There  is,  therefore,  in  such  prayers, 
nothing  inconsistent  with  our  belief  in  God’s  goodness  and 
wisdom.”  To  this  he  adds,  what  is  doubtless  true,  that 
when  we  ask  for  temporal  blessings,  as  for  our  daily  bread, 
our  prayers  are  rather  an  expression  of  our  dependence  on 
God,  than  of  a  desire  that  he  would  direct  the  course  of 
the  world  according  to  our  wishes. 

Of  the  real  efficacy  and  value  of  prayer,  we  have  the 
highest  assurance,  both  in  the  encouragement  to  this  duty 


344 


OF  WORSHIP. 


which  is  presented  in  the  sacred  Scriptures,  and  also  the 
actual  experience  of  its  benefits  by  believers  in  all  ages. 

Argument  from  Scripture .  —  The  efficacy  and  duty  of 
prayer  are  set  forth  in  the  Scriptures  in  the  plainest  light. 
u  Ask  and  it  shall  be  given  you,  seek  and  ye  shall  find,” 
is  the  language  and  spirit  of  the  whole  Bible.  What  can 
be  more  explicit  than  this  language  —  and  the  like  every¬ 
where  abounds  in  sacred  writings  —  as  to  the  real  efficacy 
and  use  of  prayer  ?  Besides  the  general  instructions  and 
precepts  which  enjoin  the  duty  of  prayer,  there  are  specific 
directions  given  as  to  the  various  objects  for  which  we 
may  properly  ask.  Examples  also  are  given  of  prayer  for 
specific  objects,  for  private  and  for  public  benefits,  for  the 
remission  of  sins,  for  deliverance  from  temporal  evils,  and 
for  whatever  the  soul  of  man  most  earnestly  desires.  And 
not  only  have  we  instances  of  prayer  in  the  Scriptures, 
but  of  answers  to  prayer,  and  those  almost  innumerable. 
We  are  not  presented  with  precepts  and  examples  merely, 
but  with  manifest  and  practical  results.  That  God  an¬ 
swers  the  prayers  of  his  children,  and  has  done  this  in 
manifold  ways,  and  instances  too  many  to  be  repeated 
and  too  obvious  to  be  mistaken,  is  as  much  a  matter  of  his¬ 
tory  as  any  event  recorded  in  sacred  or  profane  annals. 

Peter  prayed,  and  the  prison  doors  were  opened,  and 
his  chains  fell  off.  Joshua  prayed,  and  the  sun  stood  still 
over  Gibeon,  and  the  moon  over  the  valley  of  Ajalon. 
Elijah  prayed,  and  the  child  of  the  Shunamite  was  re¬ 
stored  to  life.  Moses  prayed,  and  the  Lord  forgave  the 
iniquity  of  Israel.  Again  and  again,  in  answer  to  his 
supplications,  plague,  and  pestilence,  and  the  swift  judg¬ 
ments  of  Heaven  were  stayed,  and  the  people  saved. 
Christ  prayed,  and  an  angel  stood  at  his  side  to  comfort 
and  strengthen  him. 

From  Christian  Experience.  —  Nor  is  it  from  Scripture 


OF  WORSHIP. 


345 


alone  that  we  derive  evidence  of  the  efficacy  and  value 
of  prayer.  The  history  of  God’s  people  in  all  ages  and 
all  times,  the  history  of  the  renewed  heart  wherever  found, 
is  to  the  same  effect.  Whoever,  in  humble,  earnest  suppli¬ 
cation,  in  a  filial  spirit,  and  with  true  faith,  goes  to  God  for 
those  things  which  he  desires,  and  which  are  proper  objects 
of  prayer,  usually ,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  receives  that 
for  which  he  asks.  I  do  not  say  always  /  for  it  is  possible 
that  those  things  which  we  desire  may  not  be  in  accord¬ 
ance  with  the  divine  will.  Infinite  Wisdom  may  perceive 
that  it  is  not  best  on  the  whole,  or  best  even  for  us,  that 
the  desire  should  be  granted.  Still  the  rule  stands,  not¬ 
withstanding  all  exceptions,  that  he  who  asketh  anything 
of  God,  believing,  shall  receive. 

Why  Enjoined.  —  If  we  ask,  now,  why  such  a  practice 
is  enjoined  in  the  Scriptures,  why  prayer  is  made  a  duty, 
when  doubtless  the  same  blessings  might  be  conferred  with¬ 
out  the  asking,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  reply,  that  it  is  due 
to  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  events  that  we  should  in  this 
manner  recognize  his  sovereign  sway,  and  our  entire  de¬ 
pendence  on  him  for  all  the  mercies  of  life.  He  will  be 
inquired  of  for  these  things.  The  good  and  wise  father 
may  choose  that  his  child  shall  ask  for  that  which  he  is 
ready  to  bestow.  It  is  right  and  fitting  that  the  child 
should  do  so.  « 

Such  a  procedure  is  of  service  also  to  the  petitioner.  It 
keeps  alive  in  him  the  sense  of  his  constant  dependence  on 
his  God,  which  he  might  otherwise  be  ready  to  forget.  It 
reminds  him  of  the  source  whence  all  his  blessings  flow, 
and  of  his  constant  need  of  divine  guidance  and  protection. 
It  prepares  him  also  to  receive  with  grateful  heart  those 
favors  which  he  asks,  and  to  enjoy  their  reception  so  much 
the  more  as  gifts  from  his  Heavenly  Father,  in  answer  to 
his  prayer. 


346 


OF  WORSHIP. 


§  II.  Or  the  Sabbath. 

If  it  is  our  duty,  as  we  have  already  seen,  to  worship 
God,  it  would  seem  to  be  desirable  and  proper  that  there 
should  be  stated  times  for  this  worship.  The  observance 
of  special  days  and  occasions  for  this  purpose,  seems  to  be 
the  dictate  at  once  of  reason  and  of  natural  religion,  as 
indicated  in  the  practice  of  all  nations.  Differences  of 
opinion  may  exist  as  to  the  number  and  frequency  of  these 
occasions,  and  the  proper  method  of  their  observance ;  but 
no  nation,  it  may  safely  be  affirmed,  that  recognizes  any 
religion,  and  any  Deity,  fails  to  consecrate  to  its  religion 
and  its  God  some  special  time  as  sacred  to  his  worship. 

In  treating  this  subject,  it  may  be  well  to  consider  the 
presumption  in  favor  of  a  Sabbath  ;  the  authority  of  the 
Sabbath  as  a  positive  institution ;  and  also,  very  briefly,  the 
proper  manner  of  observiny  it . 

1.  Presumption  in  Favor  of  a  Sabbath.  —  It  is  a 
strong  presumption  in  favor  of  a  Sabbath,  that  some  occa¬ 
sion  of  this  kind  is  desirable,  if  not  absolutely  necessary, 
as  a  period  of  rest ,  both  for  man  and  beast,  from  the  ordi¬ 
nary  toil  of  life.  If  this  be  so,  then  the  usefulness  of  the 
occasion  is  certainly  an  argument  in  its  favor,  and  goes  to 
establish  the  duty  of  its  observance.  It  is  a  well-ascer¬ 
tained  fact,  that  both  body  and  mind  require  intervals  of 
relaxation  from  accustomed  toil.  Facts  show  that  the 
physical  system  requires  such  rest,  and  that  its  energies  are 
exhausted,  and  its  vital  powers  impaired,  when  this  law  is 
disregarded.  It  is  equally  true  of  the  mental  faculties. 
Not  only  will  more  intellectual  labor  be  accomplished  by 
the  faithful  adherence  to  this  law  of  occasional  rest,  but  it 
will  be  accomplished  with  less  injury  to  the  physical  and 
mental  constitution,  with  less  waste  of  vigor  and  of  life. 


OF  WORSHIP. 


347 


These  facts  are  so  fully  attested  by  scientific  observation 
and  general  experience,  and  are  now  so  generally  known 
and  admitted,  that  it  is  not  necessary,  in  this  connection,  to 
enter  into  any  argument  to  establish  them. 

It  is  not  merely  useful  to  the  laborer  to  rest  for  the  time 
being  from  his  toil,  but  the  prospect  of  a  day  of  rest  and 
recreation  approaching,  refreshes  and  encourages  him  amid 
the  labors  of  the  week.  Nor  is  it  the  body  only  that  feels 
the  refreshing  influence.  The  mind,  no  less  than  the  body, 
requires  relaxation,  and  that  change  of  employment  which 
the  Sabbath  brings.  True,  the  mind  is  never  absolutely 
inactive;  the  rest  which  it  needs  is  change  of  occupation, 
and  not  entire  cessation  of  thought;  but  this  change  it 
does  need,  and  precisely  this  the  Sabbath  furnishes,  by 
directing  our  thoughts  to  objects  which  do  not  so  fully 
come  before  them  during  the  labors  of  the  week. 

The  influence  of  the  Sabbath  is  in  this  way  very  consid¬ 
erable  as  an  agent  in  promoting  the  happiness  and  civiliza¬ 
tion  of  the  community.  By  affording  intervals  of  rest  and 
relief  from  the  toils  and  cares  of  business,  and  the  weari¬ 
ness  of  labor,  it  adds  not  merely  to  the  physical  and  men¬ 
tal  vigor,  but  to  the  sum  of  domestic  and  social  enjoy¬ 
ment.  It  gives  the  busy  laborer  a  day  at  home  with  his 
own  family,  and  throws  the  refining  and  elevating  influ¬ 
ence  of  social  intercourse  over  many  a  mind,  that  would 
be  otherwise  shut  up  to  the  drudgery  of  constant  toil. 

Needed  for  Moral  and  Helicjious  Culture .  —  But  it  is 
chiefly  as  an  opportunity  of  moral  and  religious  culture, 
that  the  Sabbath  is  of  advantage  to  man.  Employed,  as 
most  men  are,  during  the  week,  with  active  labor,  whether 
of  body  or  of  mind,  there  is  little  leisure  or  inclination  for 
religious  thought,  for  self-culture  and  discipline,  for  prog¬ 
ress  in  the  knowledge  of  divine  truth  and  in  the  way  to 


348 


OF  WORSHIP. 


heaven.  Were  there  no  pause  in  this  hurried  march  of  life, 
no  cessation  from  the  din  and  uproar  of  the  ever-moving 
machinery  of  worldly  toil,  there  is  danger  that  from  most 
minds  the  thoughts  of  a  higher  life,  and  a  purer  state  of 
existence,  would  quite  fade  away,  and  men  would  become 
mere  animals  and  beast  of  burden,  intent  only  on  the  grat¬ 
ifications,  or  busied  only  with  the  drudgery,  of  the  present 
hour,  —  knowing  and  caring  for  nothing  beyond. 

For  all  this,  the  periodical  recurrence  of  the  Sabbath,  as 
a  day  specially  devoted  to  moral  and  religious  culture, 
and  to  the  worship  of  God,  affords  the  true,  and,  as  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  the  only  practicable  remedy.  It  calls 
the  thoughts  from  other  and  merely  secular  employments, 
and  invites  us  to  the  contemplation  of  those  higher  truths 
which  concern  our  permanent  and  future  well-being.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  it  will  be  found  that  very  little  progress 
is  made  in  religious  culture,  either  by  the  individual,  or  by 
the  nation,  that  dispenses  entirely  with  the  observance  of 
the  Sabbath  as  a  day  sacred  to  divine  things. 

Needed  for  Social  Worship .  —  Such  a  day  is  needed, 
moreover,  not  only  for  individual  improvement,  but  for 
social  worship.  If  men  are  to  meet  together  for  the  wor¬ 
ship  of  God,  and  for  instruction  in  religious  truth,  it  is 
quite  necessary  that  some  set  time  and  place  should  be 
appointed  for  the  purpose,  and  that  the  worship  should 
recur  at  regular  intervals,  so  that  all  may  know  when  and 
where  the  religious  assembly  is  to  be  held,  and  arrange 
their  affairs  accordingly.  The  Sabbath  provides  for  this. 
When  the  appointed  day  returns,  every  one  knows  that  it 
is  a  day  set  apart  for  religious  purposes;  that  the  ordi¬ 
nary  business  of  life  is  for  the  while  suspended ;  that  the 
occupations  of  the  shop,  the  desk,  the  counting-room,  the 
field,  the  mill,  are,  by  general  consent,  laid  aside;  and  that 
men  will  assemble  on  that  day  for  religious  instruction 


OF  WORSHIP. 


349 


and  worship.  In  consequence  of  this  general  understand¬ 
ing,  men  will  not  be  seeking  for  us  in  our  places  of  busi¬ 
ness,  while  we  are  engaged  in  public  worship.  Nor  shall 
we,  in  turn,  find  the  business  of  the  week  interrupted  by 
the  religious  observances  of  our  neighbors.  If  there  is  to 
be  any  such  thing  as  social  religious  worship,  it  is  mani¬ 
festly  for  the  convenience  of  all,  if  not  an  indispensable 
necessity,  that  one  and  the  same  time  should  be  observed, 
so  far  as  possible,  by  all  persons,  for  this  purpose.  For 
this,  also,  the  Sabbath  provides,  and  it  is  probably  not  too 
much  to  say,  that,  were  the  observance  of  this  day  dis¬ 
pensed  with,  public  assemblies  for  religious  worship  would 
not  long  continue  to  be  maintained  in  any  country.  There 
being  no  special  time  appropriated  to  that  purpose,  any 
time  that  might  be  selected  would  be  found  inconvenient, 
and  gradually  the  practice  of  coming  together  for  the 
worship  of  God  in  public  assembly  would  go  out  of  use. 

The  reasons  which  have  been  mentioned  are  sufficient 
to  show  the  use  and  great  advantage  of  a  Sabbath  to  the 
individual  and  to  the  community,  and  in  this  way  they 
create  a  strong  presumption  in  favor  of  such  an  institu¬ 
tion. 

Objection .  —  It  is  sometimes  objected  to  the  view  now 
taken,  that  the  observance  of  one  day  in  seven  as  a  period 
of  rest,  and  of  religious  worship,  is  a  serious  loss  to  the 
community,  by  subtracting  so  much  from  the  industry  and 
available  wealth  of  the  nation.  It  is  a  loss  of  one-seventh 
of  the  time,  and  so  of  one-seventh  of  the  resources  of  the 
laboring  classes.  This  is  entirely  a  mistake.  It  has  already 
been  stated,  that  both  the  physical  and  the  mental  consti¬ 
tution  absolutely  require  rest ;  and  that  continuous  labor, 
without  interval  of  repose  or  change  of  occupation,  wears 
out  the  system,  and  induces  premature  decay.  This  is 
true  both  of  man  and  beast,  both  of  him  who  works  with 

30 


350 


OF  WORSHIP. 


the  hands,  and  of  him  who  toils  with  the  brain.  If  this 
be  so,  the  periodical  recurrence  of  a  day  of  rest,  so  fir 
from  being  a  loss,  is  really  a  gain  to  the  laborer,  and  to  the 
whole  community.  One  might  as  well  complain  that  the 
time  devoted  to  sleep,  or  to  the  taking  of  food,  are  so 
many  hours  lost  out  of  every  twenty-four ;  that,  were  it 
not  for  this  unfortunate  and  needless  delay,  men  might 
work  twenty  hours  instead  of  ten,  and  so  double  the 
amount  of  their  present  earnings.  Doubtless  this  might 
be  done  for  a  time ;  but  it  would  be  for  a  short  time,  and 
would  prove  no  gain  in  the  end.  Nature  demands  rest  and 
refreshment;  and  whoever  violates  these  fundamental  laws 
of  his  constitution,  and,  under  the  pressure  and  excitement 
of  business  denies  himself  needful  sleep,  or  needful  food, 
or  needful  rest  and  recreation,  finds  himself  a  loser  by  the 
experiment.  It  is  consuming  the  principal,  for  the  sake  of 
gaining  higher  interest;  it  is  throwing  away  the  sails,  in 
order  to  increase  the  speed  of  the  ship. 

It  is  to  be  remembered,  also,  that  even  if  nature  could  en¬ 
dure  uninterrupted  toil, — which,  as  at  present  constituted, 
it  cannot, — the  addition  of  an  extra  day  of  labor  to  the  six 
now  employed,  would  be  quite  likely  to  reduce  the  price 
of  labor,  leaving  the  workman  no  better  pay  at  the  end  of 
the  week  than  he  has  now,  but  obliging  him  to  work  seven 
days  for  it,  instead  of  six.  This  would  be  all  he  would 
gain. 

2.  Institution  and  Authority  of  the  Sabbatii. — 
For  reasons  now  stated,  we  need  a  Sabbath,  and  should  be 
under  the  necessity  of  observing  one,  out  of  regard  to  our 
own  best  interests,  even  if  none  had  been  appointed  by 
divine  authority.  It  is  certainly  fair  to  presume,  how¬ 
ever,  that  one  has  been  appointed,  inasmuch  as  the  reasons 
for  it  are  so  weighty.  It  is  not  probable  that  Divine  Wis- 


OF  WORSHIP. 


351 


dom  and  Benevolence  would  overlook  so  important  an 
item  in  the  economy  of  human  affairs,  —  would  give  man  a 
nature  requiring  a  Sabbath  as  a  day  of  rest  from  toil,  a 
day  of  social  and  domestic  enjoyment,  of  individual  moral 
culture,  and  of  public  worship,  and  not  give  him  also  the 
Sabbath  itself.  This  would  be  much  the  same  as  if  Deity 
were  to  create  man  with  an  appetite,  and  not  supply  the 
food  adapted  to  its  craving ;  or  with  a  disposition  for 
sleep,  and  make  no  provision  for  hours  suitable  for  repose. 

But,  if  a  Sabbath  has  been  instituted,  then  when  and 
where?  We  find  a  day  actually  observed  by  all  Chris¬ 
tian  nations  as  a  Sabbath,  claiming  to  be  such  an  institu¬ 
tion,  and  regarded,  by  many  at  least,  as  of  divine  authority. 
The  question  is,  Has  it  such  authority?  Is  the  Christian 
Sabbath,  in  other  words,  either  directly  or  indirectly  an 
institution  of  divine  appointment? 

What  Authority  for  any  Day .  —  We  shall  best  answer 
this  inquiry,  by  first  raising  the  previous  question,  What 
authority  is  there  for  the  observance  of  any  day  as  a  Sab¬ 
bath?  Is  there  any  evidence  that  God  has  ever  appointed 
any  day  for  this  purpose,  with  a  view  to  its  general  ob¬ 
servance  by  the  human  family  ? 

I  reply :  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  he  has.  There 
is  reason  to  believe  that  at  the  very  outset,  at  the  crea¬ 
tion  of  our  world  and  our  race,  the  Creator  set  apart  one 
day  in  seven  as  sacred  to  himself,  to  be  observed  by  man, 
in  all  his  generations  and  families,  as  a  day  of  worship 
and  of  rest.  The  sacred  narrative  informs  us  that  “on 
the  seventh  day  God  ended  his  work  which  he  had  made  ; 
and  he  rested  on  the  seventh  day  from  all  his  work  which 
he  had  made  ;  and  God  blessed  the  seventh  day  and  sanc¬ 
tified  it,  because  that  in  it  he  had  rested  from  all  his  work 
which  God  created  and  made.”  Now  it  must  be  conceded 
that  this  passage,  though  not  in  manner  and  form  a  divine 


352 


OF  WORSHIP. 


command  to  observe  every  seventh  day,  is  at  least  a 
history  of  the  institution  of  the  Sabbath,  and  presents, 
at  the  same  time,  the  reason  why  the  day  was  thus  set 
apart.  It  was  thus  consecrated,  because  on  that  day  God 
had  rested  from  all  his  work.  Now  the  reason,  it  will  be 
observed,  is  of  a  general  nature  —  applicable  as  much  to  all 
times  and  nations,  as  to  any  one.  It  was  not  a  reason 
why  the  Jews  should  observe  the  day,  any  more  than  why 
we  should  observe  it.  The  institution,  as  then  originated, 
could  not  have  been  intended  for  the  Jews  especially; 
for  the  Jews,  as  a  nation,  were  not  in  existence  until  some 
two  thousand  years  afterwards.  The  fact  that  it  was 
instituted  at  the  beginning,  as  well  as  the  reason  assigned 
for  its  institution,  both  show  conclusively  that  it  was  de¬ 
signed  for  all  nations,  and  all  ages  of  the  world. 

Paley's  View .  —  I  am  aware  that  eminent  authorities 
have  taken  the  ground  that  the  Sabbath  was  not  in  reality 
instituted  at  the  creation,  but  that  the  passage  referred 
to  merely  assigns  a  reason,  by  way  of  anticipation,  for 
an  institution  which  came  into  existence  hundreds  of 
years  after ;  that  is,  when  the  Israelites  were  in  the  wil¬ 
derness,  on  their  way  from  Egypt  to  Palestine.  This  is 
the  view  of  Dr.  Paley,  among  others.  He  infers  this 
from  the  silence  of  the  sacred  narrative  as  to  any  such 
institution  or  observance,  through  all  the  intervening 
periods  of  history  from  the  creation  down  to  the  exodus 
of  the  children  of  Israel,  —  a  period  of  some  twenty-five 
hundred  years,  —  during  which  godly  men  without  num¬ 
ber  lived,  keeping  the  divine  precepts  diligently,  —  and 
doubtless  this  among  the  rest,  if  any  such  precept  or 
institution  was  in  existence,  —  and  yet  not  the  remotest 
allusion  do  we  find  to  any  such  observance  during  all 
this  time.  This  silence  he  regards  as  unaccountable,  on 
the  supposition  that  all  this  while  the  Sabbath  was  in 


OF  WORSHIP. 


353 


existence  as  a  positive  institution.  Hence  he  infers  that 
the  transaction  recorded  in  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  Exo¬ 
dus  is  the  first  actual  institution  of  the  Sabbath. 

The  transaction  to  which  he  refers  is  the  gathering  of 
the  manna  in  the  wilderness,  a  double  quantity  of  which 
was  gathered  on  the  sixth  day:  “And  all  the  rulers  of 
the  congregation  came  and  told  Moses;  and  he  said  unto 
them,  This  is  that  which  the  Lord  hath  said :  To-mor¬ 
row  is  the  rest  of  the  holy  Sabbath  unto  the  Lord? 
Now,  by  referring  to  the  narrative,  it  will  be  seen  that 
there  is  nothing  here  which  wears  the  aspect  of  a  new 
institution,  —  no  command  to  observe  an  ordinance  just 
then  for  the  first  time  promulgated,  but  simply  a  reason 
assigned  for  the  circumstance  that  a  double  portion  of 
food  was  provided  on  that  day,  which  reason  was,  that 
“  to-morrow  is  the  Sabbath,”  as  if  the  simple  mention  of 
that  fact  would  be  sufficient  to  explain  the  whole  thing. 
This  is  certainly  not  the  way  in  which  any  person  at  the 
head  of  government  would  be  likely  to  announce  a  new 
law,  or  to  establish  a  new  institution.  It  looks  rather  as 
if  the  Sabbath  was  an  institution  already  well  known  to 
the  people,  and  which  needed  only  to  be  mentioned,  in 
order  to  be  understood  at  once  as  a  reason  why  they 
were  not  to  gather  manna  on  that  as  on  other  days. 

And  so  unquestionably  it  was.  The  division  of  time 
into  weeks  of  seven  days,  is  one  of  the  earliest  monuments 
of  antiquity  of  which  wTe  have  any  record.  It  was  the 
custom  of  the  oriental  nations  from  the  very  earliest 
period,  —  a  custom  prevalent  in  India,  China,  Arabia, 
Egypt,  and  Assyria,  —  and,  not  improbably,  derived  from 
the  Jewish  patriarchs,  and  so  to  be  traced  back  to  the 
original  institution  of  the  Sabbath  at  the  creation.  As- 

9 

tronomers  pronounce  the  week  to  be  the  most  ancient 
monument  of  astronomical  knowledge.  It  must  have 

30* 


354 


OF  WORSHIP. 


existed  in  Egypt  at  the  time  the  Israelites  dwelt  there; 
and  whatever  may  be  the  origin  of  the  custom,  whether 
derived  from  the  Jewish  patriarchs,  and  from  the  insti¬ 
tution  of  the  Sabbath  in  Eden,  or  not,  the  simple  fact 
that  it  was  so  ancient  and  so  universal  a  custom  thus 
to  divide  the  time  into  periods  of  seven  days,  and  that 
it  was  a  custom  with  which  the  Israelites  must  have  be¬ 
come  familiar  during  their  stay  in  Egypt,  if  never  before, 
shows  that  it  cannot  have  been  a  new  institution  at  the 
time  of  which  we  speak.  The  rest  of  the  seventh  day 
is  of  earlier  origin  than  the  exodus  of  the  Israelites,  and 
the  Mosaic  institution,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  regard 
it  as  having  its  source  in  the  first  revelation  of  the  divine 
will  ever  made  to  man. 

The  Jewish  /Sabbath .  —  I  am  far  from  supposing,  how¬ 
ever,  that  the  Jewish  Sabbath,  as  such ,  —  that  which  was 
specially  given  to  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness,  whether 
it  was  then  first  enacted,  or  only  reenacted,  and  made  a 
special  ordinance,  along  with  many  others,  for  that  peo¬ 
ple,  —  is  an  institution  binding  upon  us.  I  claim  for  the 
Sabbath,  as  a  divine  institution,  another  and  an  earlier 
origin,  a  broader  foundation,  and  a  more  universal  de^ 
sign,  than  pertained  to  the  Sabbath  of  the  Mosaic  insti¬ 
tution.  The  Jewish,  or  Mosaic  Sabbath,  is  always  spoken 
of  as  a  sign  between  God  and  the  people  of  Israel: 
“  Moreover,  also,  I  gave  them  my  Sabbath  to  be  a  sign 
between  me  and  them;”  which  implies  that  it  was  a 
peculiar  ordinance,  not  common  to  all  nations,  but  a 
special  institution  designed  for  that  one  people.  Other¬ 
wise  it  would  have  no  significance  as  a  sign,  any  more 
than  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun,  or  any  other  well- 
known  phenomenon  common  to  all  nations  and  ages  of 
the  world.  Now,  a  Sabbath  was,  as  I  have  shown,  no 


OF  WORSHIP. 


355 


new  institution,  but  common  to  all  the  oriental  world. 
It  could  not,  therefore,  as  such,  constitute  a  special  sign 
between  God  and  the  people  of  Israel.  That  sign  —  the 
Jewish  Sabbath  —  was  not  the  universal  Sabbath,  insti¬ 
tuted  at  the  creation,  and  designed  for  all  nations  and 
times,  but  a  special  and  peculiar  institution,  designed  for 
the  Jews  alone  —  a  part  of  their  ceremonial  observances, 
of  the  same  general  character  with  their  other  sacred 
days  and  feasts,  as  of  unleavened  bread,  of  pentecost, 
and  other  similar  occasions  prescribed  in  the  ritual.  Its 
duties  were  peculiar.  It  was  to  be  observed  most  strictly 
as  a  day  of  entire  rest  from  all  physical  labor.  This,  and 
not  religious  worship,  was  the  essential  and  prominent 
idea  of  the  day,  although  both  were,  of  course,  included 
in  its  observance.  The  penalties  for  its  violation  were 
also  peculiar.  The  least  infringement  upon  its  sacred 
hours,  even  for  the  preparation  of  the  daily  food,  or  the 
making  a  fire,  was  punishable,  and  actually  punished,  with 
death.  Now,  an  institution  thus  peculiar  in  its  design 
and  purpose,  in  its  duties  and  its  penalties,  cannot  well 
be  regarded  as  binding  on  other  nations  and  times  than 
that  to  which  it  was  specially  given,  and  for  whom  it  was 
specially  intended ;  otherwise  we  should  be  bound  to 
regard  not  only  the  institution,  but  the  specific  day,  the 
specific  purpose,  the  specific  duties  and  manner  of  observ¬ 
ance,  and  the  peculiar  penalties,  as  likewise  in  force,  and 
binding  upon  us.  While,  therefore,  I  regard  the  Sabbath 
as  a  divine  institution,  designed  for  all  nations  and  ages 
of  the  world,  and  instituted  at  the  beginning,  I  cannot 
regard  the  Jewish  Sabbath  as  identical  with  the  universal 
and  original  one,  but  rather  as  a  peculiar  ordinance,  hav^ 
ing  its  specific  design  and  its  peculiar  duties,  and  which, 
as  such,  and  so  far  as  it  was  Jewish ,  passed  out  of  exist- 


856 


OF  WORSHIP. 


ence  along  with  the  whole  ceremonial  of  which  it  was  a 
part. 

Authority  of  the  Christian  Sabbath.  —  We  are  ready 
now  to  inquire  what  authority  there  is  for  the  observance 
of  the  Christian  Sabbath.  We  have  seen  that  both  nature 
and  revelation  point  to  the  propriety  and  duty  of  observ¬ 
ing  one  day  in  seven  as  a  day  of  rest  and  of  worship.  We 
must  regard  such  observance,  then,  as  a  divine  institution. 
But  what  day  shall  it  be,  and  in  what  manner  shall  it  be 
observed  ?  As  to  this,  we  have  found  as  yet  no  direction. 
We  have  no  reason  to  suppose,  as  I  have  already  shown, 
that  the  Jewish  Sabbath  is  binding  on  us,  either  as  re¬ 
gards  the  day  of  the  week,  or  the  duties  and  manner  of 
observance.  We  are  at  liberty,  then,  to  adopt  any  other. 
We  find  in  the  Scriptures  no  command  on  this  point. 
We  find,  however,  in  almost  universal  use  among  Chris¬ 
tian  nations  the  observance  of  the  first  day  of  the  week 
as  a  day  sacred  to  religious  purposes.  We  trace  back 
this  usage  to  the  very  earliest  period  of  the  Christian 
Church.  We  find  traces  of  it  among  the  early  disciples  to 
the  Christian  faith,  in  the  first  centuries  of  its  eventful 
history.  We  find  in  the  New  Testament  allusions  to  the 
custom  as  then  existing ;  mention,  for  example,  of  meet¬ 
ings  of  the  Christian  disciples  on  that  day,  for  religious 
worship,  and  that  in  repeated  instances.  We  infer  that 
the  observance  of  that  day  has  at  least  the  authority  of 
apostolic  usage,  if  not  of  any  more  direct  and  positive 
institution.  There  is  in  this  a  presumption,  to  say  the 
least,  that  it  may  have  something  more  than  the  sanction 
of  early  and  general  Christian  usage  —  that  it  may  have, 
in  some  sense,  what  it  is  generally  understood  to  claim,  the 
express  sanction  and  authority  of  the  inspired  teachers  and 
founders  of  the  Christian  faith.  Still,  it  must  be  conceded, 


OF  WORSHIP. 


357 


the  observance  of  that  day,  rather  than  any  other,  rests 
upon  no  positive  command.  The  custom  of  Christian 
nations,  the  early  and  apparently  apostolic  usage,  and  the 
evident  reasonableness  of  the  usage,  as  a  fit  and  proper 
tribute  of  respect  to  that  great  event,  on  which  hang  the 
hopes  and  destinies  of  the  world,  —  the  resurrection  of  our 
Lord,  —  constitute  a  sufficient  basis  and  warrant  for  the 
observance,  on  our  part,  of  the  first  day  of  the  week  as  our 
Christian  Sabbath.  When  asked,  then,  what  is  our  author¬ 
ity  for  observing  the  first  day  of  the  week  as  a  day  of  rest 
and  of  religious  worship,  we  reply  :  The  law  of  nature,  and 
the  divine  sanction,  both  point  to  the  duty  of  keeping 
some  day,  one  day  in  seven,  as  sacred  to  religious  uses; 
while  custom,  and  the  universal  consent  of  Christian  na¬ 
tions  from  the  earliest  times,  as  well  as  the  great  event 
commemorated,  point  to  this  day  in  particular  as  the  one 
most  appropriate  for  such  observance.  On  these  general 
grounds  we  are  content  to  rest  the  matter. 

3.  The  Proper  Manner  of  Observing  the  Sabbath. 
—  The  reasons  for  which  the  Sabbath  exists,  and  which  led 
to  its  institution,  are  the  proper  guide  to  its  right  observ¬ 
ance.  We  are  under  obligation  to  make  such  use  of  it  as 
shall  best  conduce  to  those  ends  for  which  it  was  appointed, 
and  thus  carry  out  its  great  design.  Whatever  does  this, 
is  a  right  use  of  the  Sabbath  ;  whatever  fails  of  this,  how¬ 
ever  seemly  and  sacred  in  appearance,  is  a  perversion  of  its 
true  meaning  and  intent. 

And  first,  the  natural ,  though  not  of  necessity  the  chief 
reason,  for  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath,  must  not  be 
overlooked.  Nature  demands  it  as  a  day  of  rest.  So  far  as 
possible,  —  so  far,  that  is,  as  may  consist  with  the  necessary 
duties  of  life,  and  with  the  higher  purposes  of  the  day, —  it 
should  be  observed  as  a  day  of  entire  cessation  from  the 


358 


OF  WORSHIP. 


ordinary  pursuits  and  occupations,  —  a  day  of  rest  both  to 
body  and  to  mind.  Not  even  religious  services  should  be 
so  multiplied,  or  so  conducted,  as  to  set  aside  and  supersede 
this  first  law  of  the  Sabbath.  If  in  any  manner,  or  by 
any  mode  of  observance,  the  day  becomes  as  laborious  and 
exhausting  to  the  powers  of  body  and  mind  as  other  days 
of  the  week,  it  is  no  longer,  in  the  proper  sense,  a  Sabbath, 
whatever  else  it  may  be. 

But  it  is  certainly  not  the  whole  design  of  the  Sabbath 
that  it  should  be  a  period  of  rest.  It  is  a  day  given  for 
individual  moral  and  religious  culture /  given  for  this 
purpose  to  every  man,  as  individually  responsible  for  his 
own  moral  improvement,  and  as  needing  for  this  purpose 
time  for  religious  meditation,  and  for  direct  intercourse 
with  the  Divine  Being.  To  this  end  the  day  is  given,  —  a 
day  of  which  the  special  and  proper  business  is  that  now 
indicated ;  given  to  every  man  as  his  sacred  right,  which 
no  man  may  take  from  him,  and  which  he  has  no  right  to 
take  from  himself,  by  any  occupation  inconsistent  with  the 
purpose  of  the  day.  Not  even  public  religious  observances 
should  be  allowed  to  deprive  us  of  this  individual  use  and 
benefit  of  the  Sabbath,  as  a  means  of  personal  religious 
culture. 

We  are  not,  however,  to  overlook  the  public  worship  of 
God  in  the  solemn  assembly.  This  is  one ,  and  one  of  the 
most  obvious  and  important,  of  the  appropriate  duties  of 
the  Sabbath.  It  should  have  its  place,  but  it  should  not 
be  allowed  to  usurp  the  time  which  belongs  to  other  and 
equally  important  duties. 

In  a  word,  the  Sabbath  is  a  day  of  sacred  rest,  and  of 
religious  worship ;  and  whoever  thus  employs  it,  employs 
it  aright. 


CONFLICT  OF  DUTIES. 


In  the  preceding  pages  on  Practical  Ethics,  we  have 
discussed  the  duties  which  pertain  more  directly  to  self, 
to  society,  to  the  family,  to  the  state,  and  to  God.  It  may 
sometimes  happen  that,  of  these  several  classes,  some  one 
may  present  claims  apparently  in  conflict  with  those  of 
another.  How  shall  these  conflicting  claims  be  recon¬ 
ciled?  Which  shall  we  obey?  This  is  a  question  of 
some  moment  in  practical  ethics,  and  its  brief  considera¬ 
tion  may  fitly  conclude  our  discussion  of  this  department 
of  the  science. 

Strictly  speaking,  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  con¬ 
flict  of  duties .  Duties  are  never  in  collision ;  obligations 
never  clash.  There  is  one,  and  but  one,  right  thing  to  be 
done ;  one,  and  but  one,  right  course  to  pursue,  all  things 
considered ;  and  whatever  is  in  conflict  with  this,  is  not, 
and  cannot  be,  a  duty,  whatever  may  seem  to  be  its  claims. 
The  will  of  God,  which  is  the  rule  of  duty  to  man, 
whether  as  given  in  nature  and  the  constitution  of  things, 
or  in  revelation,  is  always  consistent  with  itself.  Hence, 
to  one  and  the  same  person,  at  one  and  the  same  moment, 
the  path  of  duty  never  lies  in  opposite  directions. 

Cases  of  apparent  Conflict.  —  It  is  often  difficult,  never¬ 
theless,  to  determine  what  is  the  path  of  duty.  Opposite 


CGO 


CONFLICT  OF  DUTIES 


courses,  which  bear  at  least  the  semblance  of  obligation, 
present  their  claims;  and  these  claims  are  often  in  conflict 
with  each  other.  It  is,  for  example,  my  duty  as  a  good  citi¬ 
zen  to  respect  and  honor  the  state.  But,  suppose  the  state 
is  not  a  proper  object  of  respect,  —  its  laws  unjust,  its  pol¬ 
icy  dishonorable,  its  whole  character  discreditable,  —  am  I 
still  to  honor  and  respect  it  ? 

It  is  my  duty  as  a  citizen  to  support  the  government  of 
my  country  by  my  influence,  and,  if  necessary,  by  my  per¬ 
sonal  service.  But,  suppose  it  is  engaged  in  an  unjust  and 
iniquitous  war,  or  in  measures  revolting  to  sentiments  of 
honor  and  justice,  and  the  claims  of  humanity — am  I  still 
to  maintain  and  defend  it,  on  the  principle,  “My  coun¬ 
try  —  right  or  wrong  ?  ” 

In  like  manner,  the  duties  of  a  parent  to  his  family  may 
seem  to  be  inconsistent  with  those  services  which  are  due 
to  society  and  the  state,  or  with  those  which  he  owes  to 
himself.  He  is  under  obligation  to  provide  for  his  own 
household.  To  do  this  effectually,  may  at  times,  and 

under  the  pressure  of  peculiar  circumstances,  require  an 

% 

amount  of  exertion  inconsistent  with  a  due  regard  to  the 
laws  of  life  and  health.  Shall  he  disregard  the  latter,  in 
his  anxiety  to  secure  the  former? 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  child  to  honor  and  obey  the  parent. 
But,  suppose  the  parent  to  be  a  wretched  victim  of  intem¬ 
perance  and  vice — how  can  the  child  honor  and  respect 
such  a  parent  ?  Or,  suppose  the  commands  of  the  parent  to 
run  counter  to  those  of  God  —  is  the  child,  in  such  a  case, 
absolved  from  the  obligation  of  filial  obedience?  or  is  he 
to  obey,  whatever  the  command  may  be?  In  general,  sup¬ 
pose  the  laws  of  the  family,  or  of  the  state,  to  conflict 
with  the  dictates  of  conscience  and  the  laws  of  God, 
which  shall  be  obeyed  —  God  or  man  ? 

A  General  Rule .  —  These  are  cases  not  unlikely  to 


CONFLICT  OF  DUTIES. 


361 


occur,  and  which,  in  fact,  frequently  do  occur,  in  the  course 
of  events.  They  are  questions  of  practical  moment.  It 
is  difficult  to  lay  down  rules  that  shall  meet  all  such  cases. 
Without  attempting  to  do  this,  it  may,  I  think,  be  taken  as 
a  general  rule,  applicable  to  all  such  matters,  that  where 
there  are  conflicting  claims,  the  preference  is  to  be  given 
to  those  which  are  in  themselves  the  higher  and  the  more 
important,  which  proceed  from  and  rest  upon  the  highest 
authority.  Thus,  the  interests  of  society  are  wider,  and  its 
welfare  of  more  consequence,  than  those  of  self.  So,  also, 
with  the  interests  of  the  family ;  they  are  more  and  higher 
than  those  of  the  individual.  The  authority  of  the  state 
is  superior  to  the  authority  of  the  parent,  and,  other  things 
being  equal,  is  entitled,  in  consequence,  to  superior  regard. 
It  is  an  authority  comprehensive ,  in  a  measure,  of  the 
other.  On  the  same  principle,  and  a  fortiori ,  the  claims 
and  authority  of  God  are  comprehensive  of  and  superior 
to  all  others;  and  where  they  come  in  conflict  with  the 
claims  and  authority  of  man,  whether  in  society,  in  the 
family,  or  in  the  state,  all  such  claims  and  obligations 
become  null  and  void,  and  the  law  of  God  alone  is  bind¬ 
ing. 

On  no  other  principle  can  we  justify  any  instance  of  dis¬ 
obedience  to  unjust  and  wicked  legislation;  as,  for  exam¬ 
ple,  the  refusal  of  Daniel  to  comply  with  the  edict  which 
forbade,  for  a  given  time,  the  worship  of  any  God ;  the 
refusal  of  the  three  Jewish  governors  to  fall  down  and 
worship  the  golden  image  that  Nebuchadnezzar  had  set  up 
on  the  plain  of  Dura ;  the  refusal  of  the  apostles  to  preach 
no  more  in  the  name  of  Christ,  as  ordered  by  the  magis¬ 
trates;  the  refusal  of  the  early  Christians  to  abjure 
faith  in  Christ,  and  burn  incense  to  heathen  gods.  The 
whole  history  of  the  Christian  Church,  of  sacrifice  and 
suffering  and  death  for  the  faith  and  the  truth,  is  a  practi- 

31 


862 


CONFLICT  OF  DUTIES. 


cal  recognition  of  this  great  principle.  There  had  been  no 
martyrs  but  for  this  higher  law. 

It  is  important  to  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  in  all  such 
cases  of  opposing  and  contradictory  claims,  that  we  are 
justified  in  refusing  obedience  to  the  plain  and  positive 
commands  of  those  in  authority,  whether  parents  or  rulers, 
only  when  such  commands  are  plainly  and  unquestionably 
in  conflict  with  the  divine  precepts.  The  case  should  be  a 
plain  one.  If  it  be  not  so,  —  if  there  be  room  for  reason¬ 
able  doubt  whether,  after  all,  there  is  any  real  discrepancy 
between  the  two  authorities,  the  divine  and  the  human, — 
we  are  not,  as  it  seems  to  me,  merely  on  the  strength  of 
that  doubt  and  uncertainty,  to  set  aside  the  direct  and 
positive  demands  of  human  legislation.  Much  less  are  we 
to  set  up  our  own  notions  as  law,  and  slide  into  the  belief 
that,  because  a  given  course  is  highly  pleasing  or  displeas¬ 
ing  to  us,  it  is  equally  so  to  the  divine  mind.  Our  inclina¬ 
tions  and  prejudices  may,  or  may  not,  be  coincident  with 
truth,  and  the  divine  will.  At  all  events,  they  are  not 
our  guide. 


AUTHORITIES 


The  following  works  may  be  consulted  with  profit  by  the 
critical  reader,  who  wishes  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  lit¬ 
erature  of  the  department. 


ENGLISH  AUTHORS. 

Paley.  —  Moral  Philosophy. 

Whewell.  —  Elements  of  Morality. 

Cudworth.  —  Eternal  and  Immutable  Morality. 

Stewart.  —  Active  and  Moral  Powers. 

Reid.  —  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers. 

Cogan.  —  Ethical  Treatise. 

“  Ethical  Questions. 

Smith,  Adam.  —  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments. 

Cudworth. —  Intellectual  System. 

Price  (Dr.  R.).  —  Review  of  Morals. 

“  “  Dissertations. 

Hutcheson.  —  Inquiry  into  the  Ideas  of  Beauty  and  Virtue. 

Taylor  (Dr.  J.).  —  Examination  of  do. 

“  Sketch  of  Moral  Philosophy. 

Ferguson  (Dr.  A.).  —  Institutes  of  Moral  Philosophy. 

Campbell  (Dr.  Arch.).  —  Inquiry  into  the  Original  of  Moral  Virtue 


364 


AUTHORITIES. 


Hume  (David).  —  Treatise  of  Human  Nature. 

“  “  Inquiry  concerning  the  Principles  of  Morality. 

Butler.  —  Sermons  on  Human  Nature. 

Abercrombie  ( J .). —  Philosophy  of  the  Moral  Feelings. 

Hampden  (B. ).  —  Lectures  on  Moral  Philosophy. 

M ’  Cosh.  —  Divine  Government. 

Shaftesbury. —  Inquiry  Concerning  Virtue. 

T Varburton.  —  Divine  Legation. 

Clark ,  Samuel.  —  Evidence  of  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion. 
Hobbes.  — Leviathan. 

Bentham.  —  Principles  of  Morals  and  Legislation. 

“  Deontology. 

Taylor,  Jeremy.  —  Rule  of  Conscience. 

More ,  Henry.  —  Euchiridion  Ethicum. 


AMERICAN  AUTHORS. 

Wayland.  —  Elements  of  Moral  Science. 

Hickok.  —  System  of  Moral  Science. 

Winslow.  —  Elements  of  Moral  Philosopny. 
Alexander.  —  Moral  Philosophy. 

Bowen  ( Fr .).  —  Metaphysics  and  Ethics. 

Mahan.  —  Moral  Philosophy. 

Edwards  (President).  —  The  Nature  of  True  Virtue. 


GREEK  AUTHORS. 

Plato.  —  Opera  (Ed.  Stallbaum),  especially  Crito,  Phsedo,  Republic, 
and  Gorgias  ;  (Euvres,  Traduites  par  Cousin  ;  also,  English  editions  by 
Cary  and  by  Taylor. 

Aristotle.  —  Ethicorum  and  Nicomachum  libri.  Ethics  and  Politics, 
translated  by  Gillies.  Alse,  Ethics,  translated  by  Browne,  and  do.  by 
Taylor. 


AUTHORITIES. 


365 


LATIN  AUTHORS. 

Cicero.  —  De  Officiis. 

“  Tusculanoe  Disputationes. 

“  De  Legibus. 


FRENCH  AUTHORS. 

Cousin.  —  (Euvres  completes. 

“  Fragmens  Philosophiques.  J 

“  Psychology  (Tr.  Henry). 

“  The  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good. 

Damiron.  —  Cours  de  Philosophic  —  Morale. 

Descartes.  —  CEuvres  Completes  (Cousin),  especially, 

“  Meditations  —  Discours  de  la  Methode. 

Jouffroy.  —  Noveaux  Melanges  Philosophiques. 

“  Introduction  to  Ethics  (Tr.  Channing). 

Malebranche.  —  Recherche  de  la  Verite. 

“  Traite  de  Morale. 

Amtfdee  Jacques.  —  Man.  de  Phil,  a  l’usage  des  coll. 
Dictionnaire  des  Sciences  Philosophiques  —  art.  Morale. 


GERMAN  AUTHORS. 

Kant.  —  Werke  (Herausg.  von  Rosenkrantz). 

“  Critik  der  Urtheilskraft. 

“  Metaphysik  der  sitten ;  also, 

"  Metaphysics  of  Ethics  (transl.  Semple). 

"  Rechtslehre. 

Jacobi.  —  Werke. 

Kosenki'antz.  —  Psychologie,  oder  die  Wissench.  von  subj.  Geist. 
Hegel.  —  Werke,  vollstandige  Ausgabe. 

“  Encyclopadie  der  Wissenchaften. 

Schelling.  —  Philosophische  Schriften. 

Leibnitz.  —  Werke. 

u 


Noveaux  Essais. 


AUTHORITIES. 


3G6 

On  Civil  Government,  and  Duties  to  the  State,  the  fol-‘ 
lowing  works  may  be  consulted : 

Plato.  —  Republic  and  Laws.  Crito. 

Aristotle.  —  Politics. 

Cic&'o.  —  De  Rcpub. 

Montesquieu.  —  Spirit  of  Laws. 

Burlamaqui.  —  Principles  of  Natural  and  Political  Law. 

Puffendorf.  —  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations. 

Goqnet.  —  Origin  of  Laws. 

Blackstone.  —  Commentaries,  Book  L 
Locke.  —  Civil  Government. 

Wines.  —  Commentary  on  Hebrew  Laws  —  Introductory  Essay. 
Constitution  of  tlie  United  States,  and  of  the  several  States. 


On  the  History  of  Ethical  Opinions,  the  following  are 
the  principal  authorities : 

Cousin.  —  Lectures  on  History  of  Philosophy. 

Bitter.  —  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy. 

Schwegler.  —  (Seelye  Translat.)  History  of  Philosophy. 

Tennemann.  —  (Johnson  Trans.)  Manual  of  History  of  Philosophy. 
Mackintosh ,  Sir  J.  —  Ethical  Philosophy. 

Stewart,  Dugald.  —  Dissertations  on  History  of  Philosophy. 

Whewdl.  —  History  of  Moral  Philosophy  in  England. 

Mordl.  —  History  of  Philosophy. 


.  vs 


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